My New Brother
by The Ablazing Arrow
Summary: Lily Potter gave birth to two baby boys on July 31st, 1980: Harry and Henry Potter. A simple mistake leads the Potters to believe that one died that night, but he was alive and lived. When he stumbles upon old newspapers ten years later, the child learns something new about himself; he's the Boy-Who-Lived's brother. And he intends on finding him.
1. The Lights in the Darkness

I've always wondered what would have happened to the series if Harry had a sibling, so I'm putting in my own spin as to how different the events would have been if he did. I know that it's been done to death before. Like a lot, but I'll take this in a somewhat different direction. There are stories on how Harry's sibling is wrongly declared the BWL, but that will not happen in here. The prophecy is declared correctly.

Pairings as far as right now have not been decided. May be canon, or might be fanon. It all depends on the direction I lead the story. Romance will not be the prominent theme though.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of J.K. Rowling's characters or the amazing universe she has created. Let's face it; none of us own it.

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><p><strong>Full Summary: <strong>Lily Potter gave birth to two baby boys on July 31st, 1980: Harry and Henry Potter. A simple mistake leads the Potters to believe that one died that night, but he was alive and lived. When he stumbles upon old newspapers ten years later, the child learns something new about himself; he's The-Boy-Who-Lived's brother. And he intends on finding him.

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><p><em>January 20th, 1980<em>

Several people occupied the waiting room in a hospital. A young couple was amongst them. They sat in chairs side by side, with the man sending loving glances to the woman every now and then. The two were quite young, barely reaching the peak of twenty-years-old. The man had jet black hair that was untidy, which made him look quite charming. He wore glasses with a pair of hazel eyes. Next to him was a young woman who had auburn hair that rested above her shoulders. Her eyes were closed, head tilting to the side to rest on the man's shoulder, smiling contently.

You would think that they were normal folk in this normal hospital at first glance. Looks are deceiving. They were actually a wizard and witch, only having graduated Hogwarts—a school for magical people like themselves—a few years prior. Around them were Muggles, people who weren't born with magical abilities like they were. The couple was in perfect disguise among them. Normally, they wouldn't go out like this, but Death Eaters seldom attack at early morning.

Death Eaters were an army of witches and wizards who followed a monster. The monster's name was Lord Voldemort. He was a powerful dark wizard. He was a monster because he believed that Muggles and Muggle-borns, or witches and wizards who were born with two Muggle parents, should be persecuted. A group was formed to retaliate against this man, a group the young man and woman were in. It was called the_ Order of the Phoenix_.

The man rubbed his temple. Even thinking of this war was bringing on a headache. _No more thinking of this war. I, James Potter, will focus solely on Lily for the day. Her and our baby._

The man's eyes traveled to rest on the woman's stomach next to him. Lily Potter, his wife, was currently ten weeks pregnant and he couldn't help but feel ecstatic. They were going to a Muggle doctor for what Lily said was a "sonogram" and see what their child looked more clearly. His brows furrowed.

"Lily, dear?" He said.

"Yes?" She lifts her head to rest her chin on his shoulder. Her emerald green eyes glimmered with love and James felt his heart melt. He was so lucky to have married such a beautiful and intelligent woman.

_I hope my children inherit those eyes._

Feeling bored, he asked her, "Why do we need a sonogram thingy again?"

"It's so that we can find out if our baby has any problems."

James lower lip pouted out. "My baby will not have any problems. He's a Potter. Potters are strong and brave and healthy." He said as he affectionately rubbed small circles on her stomach.

"Or a girl," she pointed out.

"Or a girl," he repeated. A smile grew on his lips. "That sounds nice too." Truthfully, James wanted a son more than a daughter, but he would be happy if it was a girl.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," A man called out. Lily and James stood up upon hearing their names called out. The man walked up towards them. He looked quite young with his brown hair and light blue eyes. "Hello, I am Dr. Lance," He held out his hand, which James shook. He didn't like the look he gave to Lily. "I assume you are here for the sonogram?"

"Yes." James said, a little too quickly for Lily's like. "My _wife _and I are."

The doctor frowned at James' motions, but continued to speak. "Well, congratulations on the pregnancy. If you follow me, we'll head to the room for the sonogram. So, how far along are you Mrs. Potter?" Dr. Lance asked Lily. They followed him straight through the hallway that interconnected the waiting room to a bunch of other smaller rooms. Dr. Lance would give them small glances as he guided them to the nursery to ensure they were actually following him.

"Ten weeks," Lily replied.

"Good, very good." He said. "First pregnancy?"

"Yes."

"Mhmm," There was a small pause afterwards, but it wasn't an awkward silence. Dr. Lance was busy writing notes down on a clipboard he had. With a click of a pen, he stopped for a moment in his tracks before opening a door. "Here we are. If you will please lie down on the bed Mrs. Potter, we shall get started with the sonogram soon. My assistant will be here in a moment to perform it."

"Wait, you're not doing it?" James asked. Lily had told him of the procedure and was relieved that the man wouldn't be _that_ near his wife.

Lily noticed the relief in his voice and frowned.

"No." He said. "But I may come back in case something wrong shows up on the screen."

"Like what?"

"Let's not get into those details unless I do find something, okay?" He turned to Lily. "Now, just lie here and get as comfortable as possible. She'll be here in a minute." He opened the door and closed it behind him.

The second he was gone, James gritted his teeth and ran a hand through his raven hair. "I don't like that guy. He was giving you funny looks."

"Oh calm down James, what you are saying is complete rubbish," Lily said. She was climbing into the bed and felt like swatting her husband in the arm at his jealousy, but she kept herself composed. One of them had to be the mature adult. "He's just a doctor and I'm married to _you_. Let's just focus on our baby. You know, _your_ child that's inside of me." She asked while trying to get as comfortable as possible. She fumbled with a pillow to lay her head on. He smiled at her.

"You're right, dear." He sat down at the foot of the bed. The young man waited in anticipation. James looked around the freshly-painted room, already bored despite only waiting for a minute. He noticed a weird machine next to the bed with a black screen, similar to a Muggle television. Despite wanting to ask Lily what it was called, he bit his tongue back. James figured they would find out what it was eventually.

_I should have invited Padfoot, __he would have made this event like a party. _He thought with a grin. Good ol' Sirius would have made this trip a little more exciting. Well, it wasn't that he _didn't_ think that seeing his and Lily's baby was boring, but the waiting was the irking part.

Ten more minutes passed and the door clicked. A young woman in scrubs pushed the door and entered. She smiled at them. Her hand quietly closed the door behind her. She set the clipboard Dr. Lancer had given to her to look over on a small table. "Hello, I'm Dr. Lance's assistant, Miss Reed," Miss Reed pulled out a rolling chair next to the bed Lily laid in. She pulled out a small tube from a nearby drawer, and then sat on the chair. "Lift up your shirt Miss Potter."

"Please, call me Lily, Dear. I'm too old to be called Miss," Lily said and did what she was told to do. She lifted her shirt to reveal her flat stomach and bellybutton, but not enough to reveal her upper chest.

"Okay Lily, I am going to apply this gel on your stomach. It'll be a little cold, so brace yourself," Miss Reed squirted the clear gel on Lily's stomach. She shivered in response. She then pulled out a weird-looking thing that resembled a Muggle shaving razor to James, but it was much thicker and there were no blades. The woman rubbed it around Lily's stomach, spreading the gel all around. "Your child should be appearing on the screen in three… two… one…" The three looked up at the screen. It was completely black and white. The coloring made it look like a very old Muggle movie. Inside, there was a large black spot and contained what looked like a weird-looking fist in light gray. "And there's your child."

Lily beamed at the sight, but James at first scrunched up his face, yet he smiled in awe afterwards. "Can we tell what gender it is yet?"

"Not yet. And even if we could, it could be inaccurate."

James continued to look at it and his sharp eyes noticed something the more the woman spread the blade. "Um, excuse me, what is that there?" He pointed next to the developing child. It looked like another "fist", but he thought it was perhaps part of the baby. If he had to guess though….

_It can't be what I think it is._

The woman looked up at the screen. "Oh, I didn't notice that the first time." Miss Reed studied the black and white screen for a moment in silence (much to James' displeasure) and turned back towards them, smiling. "Congratulations, you're having twins."

* * *

><p>"Moony, where are Prongs and Lily?" Sirius Black asked one of his best mates, Remus Lupin, for about the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes. Remus was reading <em>The Dailey Prophet<em> and Sirius was sitting across from him in 12 Grimmauld Place . They were waiting for James and Lily to return from the hospital. Remus was considerably more patient whilst Sirius was acting like he was ten and about to get a new toy. Remus sat the paper on the coffee table, sighing, but still answered.

"I told you Padfoot, they will get here when they get here."

"But they said they would come back thirty minutes ago! I wanna see Sirius Jr."

"You know very well that Lily is not going to agree to name her son 'Sirius Jr.', especially if it were her daughter. She'd rather hex herself to oblivion." He picked up the paper again and opened it.

"Sod off," Remus smiled behind the newspaper, continuing to listen to the childish man; "too bad Wormtail couldn't come and see the baby. He would have completed the Marauders' first glance at a new Marauder member—"

"Before it is born, that is."

"—He's always leaving out of town or busy with the Order. He should rest and have a Butterbeer with us."

Remus sighed again. "You're right—wow, I thought I'd never say _those _words."

Before Sirius could make a comeback, the front door opened, with a "We're back!" from Lily. Remus set the paper down, realizing he hadn't even finished half a page with Sirius complaining all morning. The two men both stood up as the married couple entered the room. Remus asked, "How was it? And what's with all the balloons?"

James and Lily were practically beaming with joy when they entered the room. James had a whole bunch of colorful balloons in both hands. "Hello, Padfoot and Moony. The trip was absolutely amazing! At first, it was really, and I mean _really_ boring since we had to wait for the nurse to show up and the Muggle doctor was giving Lily looks. And—"

"Load of bollocks, just spit it out!" Sirius explained. "Is it a boy? A girl? Will you name it after me?"

James grinned. He sucked in a lungful of air and held out his chest in pride. Even thinking about what he heard made his heart swell. "We're having twins."

At first, the two men were silent from shock. When it wore off, Remus clapped and walked up to them, clasping a firm hand on James' shoulder. "Congratulations, Prongs!"

Sirius decided to give Lily a huge bear hug. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back.

"This is wonderful!" Sirius exclaimed. "Double the trouble. This calls for a shot of Firewhiskey."

"I'm right with you," James grinned.

"I'm going to pass on it, and boys, we have something else we want to tell you." Lily said. Remus and Sirius glanced at her, curious. She took a deep breath and said, "We want you both to be the godfather of each of our children."

Sirius and Remus smiled widely. They both said at the same time, "I'd be honored to." The two looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, here's a picture of the little ones if you two are interested in seeing." Lily pulled out a small black-and-white picture and held it out to them. Remus took it. He looked down at it and smiled. Sirius swiped it out of his hands, his eyes bulging out of their sockets at the sight.

"What the—! They look like tiny goblins!"

* * *

><p>As the months went by, Lily and James went to see Dr. Lance to estimate the babies' birth dates (around July 29th to August 1st) and found out their genders. They discovered they were going to have two boys, but decided they were going to keep this bit of information from Remus and Sirius a secret so they could be surprised the day the babies were born. Although, Sirius did nag them constantly for the next six months to get them to tell what their genders were and gave up when he realized they were not going to spill.<p>

Lily discovered that she and Alice Longbottom, another member of the_ Order of the Phoenix_, was also going to have a child. Both women agreed to have a baby shower together.

They also did end up telling Peter Pettigrew about the children after a week of asking Sirius and Remus to be their sons' godfathers and gave him permission to tell the _Order of the Phoenix_ members about the news. They visited Lily's parents that day to tell them about the news.

Despite the happiness the Order felt of Lily bringing in two new lives into the world, Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters were still at large and everyone was busy trying to retaliate against them. They all discovered that he was now going after "Blood Traitors", people who were pure-blooded wizards who associated themselves with Muggles and Muggle-borns. Some members of the Order were being targeted since they were purebloods, but they were already being targeted by Lord Voldemort for opposing him, so they didn't personally care much about this bit of news. It only meant they had to help certain families along with Muggle-borns into hiding. The ones they managed to rescue by the Order would be healed by Lily since she was a healer. Even though she felt the heavy burden of carrying two children, she did her job fine.

Things went rather smooth in the months of Lily's pregnancy until late July 31st.

* * *

><p><em>July 31st, 1980<em>

James and Lily were sleeping peacefully at Godric's Hallow. Or James was at least. He had his left arm wrapped around Lily's enlarged stomach, his face deeply burrowed into her hair, snoring loudly right into her ear for the past five minutes, successfully waking her up from sleeping. She sighed in frustration, and after deciding to get a glass of water pushed the blankets off her body and sat up. James' body turned to the other side, still in a deep slumber. Stretching, she stood up and walked down the darkened hallway. Before going downstairs, she opened the door to her babies' room and walked inside.

The young woman smiled softly at the sight. It looked elegant, she thought. She was after all the designer. The walls were recently painted a baby blue color. Soft white carpeting tickled her toes. The room was decked out in everything they needed. Toys were stacked neatly above dressers that were filled with baby clothes. Aligned parallel, two cribs were also filled with a few toys as well as baby blankets. She walks closer, and places her hand on the workmanship. Who knew that soon they will be occupied with tiny bundles of life?

Lily placed a stomach on her stomach. One of the boys kicked against her wall. She laughed delicately. At least one of them was persistent in wanting to come out.

"Your times will come soon," she reassured. The woman left the room and shut the door quietly. She continued on her journey for water. Lily took each step down the stairway carefully to make sure she doesn't trip.

After a moment of walking around to find the kitchen, she flipped the kitchen's light switch on. The woman opened a cupboard and after pulling out a glass cup, turned on the sink faucet to fill the glass with cold water. She took a small sip after filling it halfway; he eyes momentarily closed to enjoy this small moment of peace without James' bloody snore fest.

The cool, refreshing drink rushed down her throat. Sighing in content, she turned off the faucet and began to head back upstairs. She only took three steps when she felt a warm liquid run down her legs. Her eyes widened. She glimpsed downwards, seeing a small puddle of clear liquid form around her feet.

_Oh Merlin, my water broke!_

"_James_! Get up! I'm going to go in labor soon!" A sharp pain ran through her abdomen. It was so intense that she leaned against the wall to avoid falling. She grunted in pain, and yelled out in more of a vicious tone this time, "James Potter, get your arse down here or so Merlin I will kill you before you even pull out you wand!"

Lily hears a thump upstairs. A minute later, James ran down the stairs wearing nothing but his red and gold striped pajamas along with a scarlet robe. He swallowed, apparently nervous to ask if she was actually going into labor and not a practice run. When he saw her blazing green orbs, he knew the answer.

"Okay Honey, just sit here for a moment until I summon our shoes." He led Lily through the hallway to sit on one of the steps. James then he pulled out his wand from a back pocket and shouted, "Accio slippers!" Four slippers then began to fly towards then and they bounced off of James' chest, landing on the floor. As Lily began to put a pair on, he held out his other hand shouting, "Accio broomstick!" A broomstick then flew towards him and he caught it with his right hand. Lily saw it and growled.

"I told you James, I am _not_ flying on that!"

"But it's faster riding this to get to the nearest hospital!" He defended. He pulled her up to her feet.

Lily really, _really_ did not want to ride the broom and risk falling off, but another contraction told her to get to a hospital, and Godric's Hollow was too small to have one, so she reluctantly agrees.

James could confidently say this was the most challenging ride of all time. With a clinging Lily screaming profanities at him about him shagging her and hoping desperately no Muggles noticed him he could barely focus as he zoomed. "James, slow down! I am going to fall off at this rate!" She yelled into his ears. When he slowed down a lot, she screamed once more. "Hurry up! Do you want me to give birth in mid-air?" It was a huge headache. That and he had no idea where it was. After twenty minutes he managed to find the hospital. It was relatively quiet with barely anyone running it, or maybe that was because there were only a few people present at the entrance. It was the same place they went to before, but felt so dead at this hour. That was all James could truly describe it.

When the man at the front desk noticed him pulling the woman inside, he knew what he had to do. He called an intern over to help the pregnant woman into a wheelchair. After asking James a few quick questions such as how far apart her contractions were and if she was carrying more than one child, they rolled her to the Nursery and passed the room they held the babies in after they were cleaned up. James couldn't help but admire the sleeping infants, his hands noticeably shaking with excitement. His wife, his love, was going to deliver not one, but _two_ little babies into this world. It may have been dark thanks to the evil wizard, but these children brought light. They were the lights in the darkness.

After a half hour of comforting Lily, she was ready to deliver. James had put on light blue scrubs to stand next to Lily's side. He held her hand and told her that she could do it. "_I'm going to kill you_!" She screamed at him and squeezed his hand so hard that James felt he was going to get a few broken bones in it. After a long and bloody delivery and him giving her words of encouragement, James took a fleeting look at the baby before turning away, gagging at the sight of blood. But what confused him the most was that there was no sound; the child was silent.

_That's not right, aren't babies supposed to make a sound?_

The man didn't ask James to cut the cord like he would have. He did the job himself and took the child to the table across the room. James and Lily looked at each other with fear in their eyes. Was their child—?

Before either of them could say or ask anything, a baby's cry rang through the small room and bounced off the walls. James breathed out in relief. He was holding in his breath and hearing the cry that resembled a howl sounded beautiful to him. He kissed Lily's hand and let out a small laugh. A minute later, the doctor handed them a screaming boy, its flesh light pink. Lily immediately took him into her arms, hugging him close to her, ignoring its thrashing arms.

"My baby… my baby is all right…." She sounded teary, but if she was close to crying, she refused to do so. The new mother placed a kiss on his forehead and ran a finger through his soft hair. It was auburn colored close to hers; it was a few shades darker. It reminded her of her father, Alan Evans. Lily knew what to name him. "Henry, Henry Alan Potter is his name now. Remus will be his godfather."

"Great." Lily motioned for him to pick up Henry. James took his son into his arms. "Hello Henry," he cooed to him. Henry still had tears in his eyes, but he stopped crying to reveal hazel orbs, James' color. A tear that fell from his eye was wiped by James' thumb. He noticed that a small brown beauty mark was in the center of his right cheek. James smiled, noticing that Henry stared at him as if he were studying him. "He's going to have your brains," he said to Lily. She smiled back and he looked back down at Henry. "I will be the best father to you I can be. I'll teach you everything you need to know about Quidditch. You'll be a great man, just like your Pop."

The couple spent some more time with their baby when Lily lets out a groan. "The other one wants to come out now."

The nurse who was with in the room walked up to them and said, "I'll have to take him to the nursery."

"Okay," James said and placed a kiss on Henry's forehead. Lily did the same before the nurse took Henry away. The couple waved to their first-born, who began to wail again when in the stranger's arms.

"He's going to be a handful when he's older," Lily mumbled, and James laughed.

He then asked, "Ready to bring in baby number two?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

><p>Kenneth was not a night-shift man. He never had been and will probably never be. The young intern yawned, indicating he was very tired. He laid his head on the counter of the front desk he was put to work at until John came back.<p>

That was bloody hours ago. He rubbed his forehead. The hospital was hectic at the deliveries of several children. Three babies were delivered not to long ago. The first born child was Henry Potter, who was born at 11:26 and his brother was currently being delivered. Another, whom he could faintly recall named Harvey Carter, was born at 11:35. The irony of the two boys being born close and their names sounding close was pretty unbelievable, but then again, he's seen and heard odd stuff at hospitals.

His thoughts were interrupted. "Hey mate, I need you to do a favor for me," The man who was at the front desk before said. "I need you to take these two babies to the Nursery right now." He rolled two young babies in large containers. They were both wrapped in blue blankets. On the front side one said "Potter" and the other said "Carter". Henry was still crying as Harvey remained silent.

"I thought Cheryl took care of the first Potter kid."

"She asked me to take over. Cheryl wasn't feeling too well and went home."

"Okay. But I don't see why she left, we're short with people as it already is."

John shrugged and walked away. Kenneth stood up and grabbed two wristbands he printed earlier for the arrival of them. He already printed up one Henry. Then he created one for Harvey Carter, or thought so. He accidentally created two for Harvey by typing in "Henry Alan" instead of his actual name. He threw it away and blamed that he was too tired to think clearly.

He walked up and began to push the two children down the hall. He looked down at them as he walked. _They even look somewhat similar_, he thought_._ Henry had reddish-brown hair and Harvey had pure light brown hair. The red in Henry's hair was a pretty obvious sign that they were not exactly the same, but he did think that someone could overlook it easily.

A few minutes later he arrived at the Nursery. Twisting the knob to open the door, he rolled them inside. He pulled out the wristbands.

_Henry Alan Potter_

Kenneth was about to put it in the left crib when he dropped the wristbands while yawning. Picking them up, he put a wristband in each box and walked away, confident that he put them by the correct babies.

What he didn't realize was that he put "Henry Alan Potter" in Harvey's bed and "Henry Alan Carter" in Henry's bed.

He threw away the correct wristband from earlier.

* * *

><p>Lily found the second delivery, although still painful nonetheless, a lot easier. She screamed more profanities at James, and her voice was becoming hoarse from all the strain she was putting on her voice. Soon, the second baby was delivered at precisely 11:59 PM, a few seconds before the clock struck 12:00 AM.<p>

"Congrats, it's a boy," the doctor said, "would you like to cut the umbilical cord?" James rapidly shook his head no. He felt nauseous, but didn't say anything. Instead, he watched as the man clean the small body and wraps the baby in a blue blanket. The man handed him to Lily, who was now sitting up with a weak smile.

"Hello," she cooed at the crying baby. He had a tuff of black hair on top of his head. "He has your hair," Lily said to James. She sounded very tired. Her husband merely nodded.

"What will you name him?" James asked.

The new mother of two glanced at their child. "Harry James Potter."

The doctor tapped James on the shoulder and handed him two cigars. "Congrats."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Are the rumors true? A drug-addict gave birth and died?" A female intern asked a female doctor.<p>

"Yes," she replied, not bothering to look at the intern.

"Wow. What'll happen to the kid?"

"Before she died, she said that she wanted to give it up for adoption. The woman in charge of taking care of them is on her way." The woman opened the door to the Nursery and spotted the Carter baby. They walked over to it. The baby inside had brown hair and slept peacefully. "Mr. Valentine—the man who delivered the baby—gave me permission to give over the baby to be taken to the orphanage." She picked up the wristband and studied it.

"Hmm," She said. "This is the wrong child."

"What?" Her intern asked.

"He was placed in the wrong bed." She picked up the baby. "Pick up that child," she told the intern. The younger woman did what she was told. She placed the Potter baby in the Potter bed and the intern did the same with the Carter child.

"There, problem fixed. Is that the Carter baby?" She asked her intern.

The intern looked at the wristband in the Carter bed. "Uh-huh."

The doctor then rolled the baby into the waiting room to find only an elderly woman waiting there patiently, her wrinkly hands resting upon her lap. She had neither smile nor frown; her face was expressionless. "Is that the boy?" She asked in a raspy voice.

"Yes."

The elder woman walked up to her. She showed a lot of strength as she walked despite being quite short. She looked at the child with expressionless eyes. Without a sign, she picked him up in the blanket and snatched up the wristband. The older woman looked at it.

"Henry will find a home real quick," she muttered under her breath. She walked away, feeling protected by the cover of the night. The baby stirred in her arms. She looked down and smiled a crooked smile. She had to admit he was pretty cute. Cute babies were the ones who got picked fast. After a few minutes, they disappeared among the late night mist.

* * *

><p>"What?" Lily asked. Her voice was much lower than a whisper. It was barely audible to the point where she almost didn't hear herself. The tears that came earlier were back; one fell.<p>

The news came abrupt, as if a train impacted them without warning.

_Your son has died._

Those words seemed to echo in Lily's mind. She realized fully that Henry would never learn to walk, to say "Mama" or "Dada", to ride his first broomstick, to buy his wand—to live. But how could that be? He looked healthy, granted if he did not make a sound when he first entered the world. Other than that, he was healthy as any baby could be.

Lily couldn't bring herself to say anything. She could only focus on the precious moment she had with her son; the rest of the men's conversation fell on death ears in her case.

"I'm so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Potter, but these things happen. He went into cardiac arrest, and-and he couldn't breathe. He died before anyone could help him." The doctor said softly. "But you still have your other son to look after and we have therapy—"

"Bloody hell!" James yelled angrily. He stood up, challenging the man with his eyes. "You expect us to just leave and forget Henry like that? He's our son! I knew it was a mistake to come here! C'mon Love, let's get out of here." He helped up Lily gently; his eyes lighten up upon seeing his wife. The man turned towards the doctor, which turned cold. "Take us to Harry right now."

"But sir—"

His hand itched to take out his wand, but he kept himself composed. He had to keep his actions controlled, even if he had none for his tongue. "I said _now_!"

The doctor swallowed a lump in his throat. "Very well then."

He led them to the Nursery room. The trip was quiet, but he didn't care. All what was on his mind besides his grieving wife was his newborn child who was still alive. When the man opened the door, James bolted into the room. The commotion caused a baby to wake up and begin to cry, causing a domino effect with the other children.

His eyes scanned the room and rested on their raven-haired child. He walked over to gently pick up Harry. "Harry," He whispered to his son, his only living son. He paused for a moment, trying not to get teary-eyed. "I will protect you with my life, I promise."

He would.

* * *

><p>The Potters did not want to return to Godric's Hollow. Lily knew the moment she saw the baby room meant for two would tear her apart. Instead, they traveled to the home of Lily's parents, who were sound asleep until they heard constant knocking outside. At first, they cooed at their grandchild upon seeing him in Lily's arms as the younger couple entered their home. They were confused to see there was only one child when they knew their daughter was carrying two. From a soft-spoken James they knew about the news. Mrs. Evans responded by bursting into tears. She pulled her daughter into a hug, making sure to not to make a lot of movement in fear of waking up her grandson. Mr. Evans remained solemn without saying words. Once they pulled apart, Mr. Evans tried to take Harry away from Lily so she could get some rest, but the new mother refused to let Harry go, like he would disappear.<p>

Throughout the ordeal of the grieving family, Harry slept soundless in Lily's arms; Henry did too as he was placed in an old crib in an orphanage. From the point that Henry left the hospital, they felt as if something were missing in their life, a connection, a bond they shared from nine months growing together. They were far too young too realize this yet since they were only infants, but the feeling would grow as the boys grew older. They both in a way would feel alone.

Their lives would change for the better _and_ worse forever ten years later.


	2. Returning to London

_August 1st, 1990_

It was a quiet, cold morning in the middle of a forest. Trees silently stood tall, towering above everything else. Water in a lake slightly rippled as a cool breeze blew through the air. The creatures that inhabited the area weren't awake yet, but something began crunching twigs and foliage under its feet as it made its way through the forest.

It was a person. The person's head was covered by a large black hoodie to hide away his or her face. If he or she were trying to be elusive, the person failed miserably; small mammals were being awakened by the person's obnoxious actions. The little animals hid in their small homes in fear of being attacked, but harming them was far from the human's mind. As the person slid out of the edge of the forest to stand in front of the large lake, their hands went up to the hoodie and pulled it down, revealing short yet messy auburn hair. The cold wind nipped the young boy's slightly tanned skin. It did little effect for he lived in this area all his life. Besides, there were times when it snowed here. The air was five times colder at that time. He could handle a little chilled air.

The sun barely peeked out in the horizon, but it was enough to shine light on the tall trees of Lake Tahoe. The lake itself was being reflected off by the sun. It was a magnificent sight for people to see if they managed to wake up early. In fact, the boy wanted to see it again today, despite seeing it thousands of times before. He held his hand up above his eyes to get a better glance at the sight. He smiled widely. The grin he held was as bright as the sun. The boy then picked up a small pebble. After tossing it in the air and catching it again, he flings it into the lake as far as he could. It danced over the water before sinking. Small ripples formed where it was before.

_I love this place._ As he thought, his smile faltered into a frown. He sighed in deeply and exhaled, releasing his warm breath into the chilly air. _This place…._

"Henry! Hey Henry!"

Henry turned around to see another boy call out his name. The boy ran towards him as fast as he could. His feet caught under a branch and he nearly went flying into the air. Luckily, he managed to catch himself by grabbing hold of a tree. Henry laughed. The laugh was not intended to be hurtful. Bobby had a knack for being clumsy when he was overexcited. It was funny to see, considering he was very coordinated usually.

"Hey Bobby," Henry replied. Bobby was regaining his composure as he talked, panting heavily. "Got your slingshot?"

Bobby looked at him as if just sprouted wings. "Of course!" He pulled out a slingshot from his pocket along with rocks of all different sizes. "Don't tell me _you_ forgot yours."

He shakes his head. "Nope," Henry pulled out his brand new slingshot he had received from Bobby for his tenth birthday yesterday. It was hand carved by Bobby's father (which made it even better in his mind) and Henry nearly bounced out of his seat to go try it out when he opened the box. He'd been begging for one forever after upon seeing Bobby show off his months ago. "Why would I leave my favorite present?"

"'Cause you're like that," Bobby said before he smirked. Henry stuck out his tongue playfully.

Okay, it was true that he forgot things from time to time, but it was always the little things that weren't important!

All right, maybe not_ always_.

"We're wasting time standing here and talking," he said, stretching the elastic rubber band, "when we _could_ be shooting things."

The smirk didn't leave Bobby's face. If anything, it grew bigger. "Couldn't have say it better myself. C'mon, I got some bottles set up. Let's go!" He began to stroll back into the forest. Henry trailed behind him. Bobby began to mindlessly babble about where he found them, how he hosed the wretched smell off of them, and how he picked a spot to put them up. He did all this in less than five minutes. Henry listened keenly, occasionally giving a small nod to show he was in on his fast talking. "My dad said that we have to pick them up afterwards."

They both stepped over a fallen tree and Henry saw what Bobby did in the distance. He stacked a dozen bottles of different sizes in a straight line twenty feet away along others scattered around the place, some even in trees.

"Here we are," he proclaimed. Bobby tossed the stones he held in his hand on the ground next to a stack of other pebbles. "Wanna show me how you do it?"

"You know I know how to do it!" Henry picked up a medium-sized rock, "You showed me before, remember?"

"Yours is newer. Mine's older."

"I can do it! I'm an awesome shooter!" He boasted. Henry held up the slingshot to eye level and placed the rock in the little pouch. He pulled the elastic part backwards, expecting it to bend easily. But the rubber band was much stronger than he expected and he lost his grip. The rock slid out of the pouch. It did manage to fly through the air—it plopped to the ground a few inches in front of him. His brows furrowed. "Stupid rock."

"Here, let me show you since you forgot," Bobby picked up a pebble and handed it to Henry, "hold it like you did before." Henry put the pebble in the pouch and pulled it back, but not to the point where it stretched a lot. "Now, grip the handle as best as you can and pull it as far as you can–but don't let go." He did as he was told. The slingshot was pulled until he felt like he couldn't pull anymore or it would break.

Henry grits his teeth while he tried to keep the slingshot from firing. "Now what?" He asked through his teeth.

"Aim it with the center part. Then, let go!"

He let go. The rock was sent flying and Henry expected it to hit a bottle, but instead bounced off a tree. It went into the air, which was now becoming sunnier than before. Henry and Bobby looked up to try to see if they could spot it, but it was no where to be found. The boys continued their search for it for about ten more seconds. Henry then saw a small black dot form in the clear, blue sky. It was puny at first. The longer he stared at it, the bigger it became. His eyes widened when he realized it was the rock he shot and it was coming straight at them. He was going to yell out, but Bobby beat him to it.

"Crap!"

"Look out!"

Henry felt a strong urge in himself to push Bobby out the way. He did, and in doing so, tumbled backwards to land flat on his bottom. The rock smashed into the ground at an alarming speed. The boy almost let out a sigh of relief as he realized that he saved him from getting hurt, even if it was a small thing. He felt proud in a way.

"Oww…" groaned out Bobby. He sat up rubbing the back of his head, ruffling his dirty blond hair as he did so. "Why did you do that? It's just an itty bitty rock."

"It was going super fast." Henry tried to defend himself.

"Right, that savior's blood you have in ya." He said as he sat up.

"Hey, it saved you from Derek in first grade."

Bobby's face turned slightly red. "He was big!"

The boys shot more rocks at the bottles, though Bobby did have to help with Henry with his aiming. He was told him that he had the power to shoot, but needed to improve on his aiming. Henry took a while to be able to hit straight, but he managed to strike a bottle on his fourth try. Being himself, he boasted that he is an awesome shooter. His comment bit him in the butt because the fifth shot ended up being shot at a tree, bounce off the tree's trunk, and hit him square in his chest. They laughed it off and continued to shoot.

As he and Bobby shot rocks, Henry's mind began to wander to the time when he and Bobby first met. Derek was your typical bully on the playground: big, mean, and not so smart. He was in third grade, though that didn't stop him from being a jerk to younger children. He and Bobby were in first grade and Derek constantly picked on them whenever he had the chance. This stopped after Henry confronted him, though what happened afterwards was something that has never left his mind.

* * *

><p><em>Six-year-old Henry bounced the rubber ball against the wall over and over again. He liked the peacefulness he was able to have as he played alone during recess. Being in a room full of other kids made him feel uncomfortable; they were rowdy and not to mention that Derek kid wasn't picking on him. He grew frustrated at the thought of the older boy.<em>

Stupid Derek_, thought Henry. The pressure he put on the ball was getting considerably harder the longer he thought about him. _He's just a snot-faced loser! If I could, I would beat him up in a second! _Henry kicked the ball as hard as he could. The ball bounced off the wall and rolled to the other side of the playground. He sighed, hanging his head down. _If only I was bigger.

_Henry chased after the ball. He kept on following it until it came to a complete stop. Henry picked up the ball and was about to head back to being by himself when he saw a kid named Roberto or something like that being pushed to the ground by Derek. Henry didn't want that to happen to him, so he put the ball under his right arm and turned around to try to get out of sight. He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard him call out to him._

"_Lookie, its Polky-Dot!" Derek taunted. _

_Henry's hand went up to the small, brown mark on his cheek. He hated the name he was given by several classmates. Despite numerous attempts at ignoring them, they grew on his nerves every time he heard them call him names. He wanted to do something about it, but didn't know what to do. Even if he did know, he lacked the courage to do so._

"_What's wrong Hermit?"_

_This time, Henry turned around. The insult hurt his feelings. Truthfully, he did like being by himself, but not all the time. He liked talking to people. They just never seemed to like to talk to _him_. He tried to hide his hurt feelings, but didn't do a good job at it._

"_Aww, Hermit is gonna cry now? Is he gonna cry like a little baby?"_

_The boy who was on the ground got up. "Derek, just leave him alone. He's smaller than me."_

"_Shut up Robert!" roared Derek._

_Henry stood there soaking up the bit of information like a sponge. _That kid said I was smaller than him! How dare he say that? I may be a little smaller than him, but I can take him! _Anger filled in the very core of his body. The insults, taunts, and physical abuse he received in the first months since school started seemed to flood his mind and fuel the fire of anger in his body. He rolled his hands into balls of fists like he was going to punch someone._

"_Hmm, what's this?" Derek swiped the rubber ball from Henry's grasp. He didn't attempt to try to grab it back. The anger kept him from doing anything, pinning him down to his spot. "Your little ball you play with everyday? Oh right, you don't have anyone to play with. I certainly would not want to play with a kid whose mom and dad aren't even his."_

_He lost it. An inner strength inside of him went off like a time bomb. Something inside of him was released. The ball Derek held exploded, sending the third grader flying backwards. Henry's eyes enlarged, feeling outright confused for a few seconds. What just happened?_

The ball—it exploded!

_Derek scrambled back up to his feet. He seemed bewildered, but the confused expression turned into pure irritation like what happened was just a small obstacle to overcome. Derek grabbed Henry by his sweater and looked at him dead into his eyes. "You won't get away with your little magic trick!" He pulled his fist backwards to hit him. It never got to this point the other times he bullied him, but Henry wasn't scared. His actions only fed the anger that returned._

_The fist Derek formed was coming straight at him when he stopped abruptly. His hand that formed into a fist was inches from Henry's face. He stared at it and looked up to see why he stopped. The older boy stared down at him too—no, that wasn't the right way to put it. His entire face was focused on his direction. Henry didn't like what was happening. Derek wasn't blinking, or breathing for that matter. It was like looking at a statue, those cold, lifeless statues he seen on television._

_Henry struggled to get out of his grasp. Despite acting like he was lifeless, the grip was still strong. The smaller boy put his hands against Derek's chest and used all his strength to push himself off. He managed to do it. In doing so, he stumbled backwards, but managed to stay on his feet. He glanced at Derek to see if he was a statue still, but to his surprise, the kid tumbled frontward, very alive._

"_Wu-oh!" He face planted into the hard cement. Using his arms, he pushed himself upwards. Henry winced upon seeing blood dribble down the side of his face._

_He dared to look in his eyes. He read pure fear. "You-you freak!" Derek squeaked. "You're a freak!" He got up and ran away crying._

What just happened? _This question repeated in his mind over and over again. He never did anything like that before. At least, he didn't recall something like that from his past. One thing he decided, it wasn't normal. You can't just will someone to—_

"_Thank you," A small voice said. Henry looked up to see Robert standing these. He seemed to be scared to get any closer, like Henry was going to do the same thing to him._

"_What?"_

"_Thank you for making him go away like that. He said he was going to kick my head in until you showed up."_

"_Then why'd you say I was small?" He asked bitterly._

"_I didn't want him to do the same thing to you like me," he said truthfully, "or at least give us enough time to get away. I'm Bobby by the way."_

_As he finished, the school bell rang, signaling the children it was time to go back to class. "I'll see you later?" He asked hopefully._

"_Maybe," he said. Bobby smiled widely, though his smile disappeared when he saw an angry teacher come their way. Henry turned around too. The woman was accompanied by a bawling Derek, who was pulling her dress and pointing in their direction. She looked like she was about to burst into flames. Upon seeing this, he cringed. "Or maybe not…."_

* * *

><p>Derek claimed that Henry had pushed him without any warning. Henry tried to say that he didn't do anything, but the teacher and principal didn't believe him due to how hard Derek was crying and the blood. Bobby was not anywhere to be seen and there were no other eye witnesses (though Henry thought other kids didn't want to get pounded by Derek if they tattle-taled). He was suspended for the rest of the day.<p>

The next day was something that he hadn't expected. The shy loner was praised as a hero. Other classmates claimed that Derek had stopped from pushing boys to the ground and pulling the hair of girls. He liked the attention he received; for once, he was someone else. He boasted about how he beat him up in one punch to try to keep them in believing he truly did do what they thought he did.

Actions came with consequences. When there was one person who treated him nicely, there was another who avoided him at all costs. Henry supposed they thought he was the new bully. He didn't care what they thought of him just as long they stopped with how they used to treat him.

At lunch when Henry would sit by himself Bobby sat next to him and began to talk about what happened after Henry was sent home. He stayed by his side for weeks like he was glued to him. Henry grew annoyed by his actions, but the kid grew on him. Bobby was to be the only one who would talk when they were together. Henry talked to him more each passing day and they became best friends. Regardless of their close friendship, they never did talk about the incident on what happened.

No one else knows except Henry himself. He didn't even tell his mom. The secret was locked away in his mind for years. It was always a desire in him to find out what caused him to freeze Derek and make the ball explode. After a while, the dream died away, though once in a while it would come back and haunt him.

He grinned as he knocked down three bottles in a row. "Sweet!" he exclaimed.

"That's the last of 'em."

"Went faster than I thought it would be," frowned Henry, "whatever. Wanna set them back up?"

"Actually, I was thinkin' we can start shooting real targets. You know, like squirrels."

"I can't. Mom said if I do, she'll take away TV for a week. Besides, you know I hate hurting animals."

"Okay, we can just go back to my place and eat breakfast. My mom's expecting us. She's making pancakes and sausages and bacon."

"Awesome, my favorite! Let's hurry."

The boys quickly picked up the bottles and put them into a black duffel bag. Bobby offered to drag it back home since it wasn't very heavy. As they walked to Bobby's house, they began to chatter about who can eat the most sausages and bacon when they heard a loud bird cry above their heads. They stopped in their tracks to look at it. It was a crow; a large one at that.

The crow flapped its wings in the air gracefully. Their eyes followed the crow until it landed on a branch. It ruffled its dark feathers. The sun's rays bounded of its body, giving it an ominous outlook. It began to pick at its body for bugs.

_Not that stupid crow, _Henry thought. _It's always chasing people around!_

He knew it was the crow that terrorized them because it had several scars on its body. Henry didn't have a personal encounter with it himself, but he knew some people who were attacked and had even seen one before. People tried to shoot it, but they never found it. It always seemed to come out when they least expected it.

_Crack._

Henry turned around to see Bobby place the bag full of bottles on the ground. He pulled his slingshot out of his pocket and motioned for Henry to do the same. Henry realized what he was going to do. He began to take it out too.

_Mom may have said not to shoot animals, but that thing isn't an animal. It's one of those bird demons from _The Birds_._

Bobby held out a very large rock to him. Henry took it with no hesitation. He was going to give it to the bird what it deserved, especially since he was never going to see it again. "On the count of three," he whispered to Bobby. The other boy nodded as he pulled the slingshot backwards. "One," Henry put the rock into the pouch and pulled the pouch backwards. "Two," He aimed the slingshot just like Bobby showed him how to. "Three!"

For a split second, he thought perhaps this wasn't such a bright idea. The afterthought wouldn't matter because they released their grasps on the pouches. The rocks went flying into the air. Their aim was perfect because the bird felt a sharp pain on the side of its skull. The forces sent the bird spiraling out of the tree. _Ka-kaa! _It managed to let out before colliding into the ground.

"Yeah! We got it!" Bobby held up his hand to Henry, who hi-fived him back. As their hands separated, Henry looked across to try to find the bird. His eyes rested on the creature. It would look like it were dead weren't for its twitching claw. Henry started to feel guilty for harming an animal, even if the thing was terrible towards people. Perhaps it defended its territory or babies like the things he read in books.

"Do you think its okay?"

"I hope not. I hate it. Wait," his head twisted towards him for a moment, "don't tell me you are feeling bad for it, are you?"

"No!" He exclaimed, trying to cover up his feelings. "No, not at all. Why would I feel like that? What I meant was let's go poke it with a stick."

"Now you're talking my language." He scanned the ground for a big enough stick. Bobby held out to Henry a decent-sized one. If he were to poke it, he would at least be a foot away. Truthfully, he wanted a bigger stick. Upon seeing him, Bobby asked, "You gonna chicken out?"

"Heck no. I'm brave."

"Or just really dumb. You know what they say, brains beats brawns."

"Do you want me to touch it or not?" Bobby thrusts the stick into Henry's arms. "I'll take that as a yes." Shrugging, he put his slingshot away and grasped the stick with both hands for a better grip. He crept carefully to the bird making sure each step he took would not be too loud. The closer he got, the slower his footsteps became. Fear wasn't much of a factor in his behavior. He just wanted to scare Bobby.

The distance between the stick and the bird was slowly closing in. Henry shut his eyes as he lightly poked the bird, bracing for the moment it was going to attack him.

Yeah, it _wasn't_ a good idea to attack it.

Moments passed. Agitation in his body developed to the point where he forced his eyes to open. The bird still laid on its back. Henry poked it again. Nothing happened. He felt foolish that he was building up all the tension for nothing. He turned to Bobby to see his reaction. If he felt foolish, Bobby would feel even more, like a clown. With eyes squinted closed he looked like he was going to get a good smack from his parents.

Henry set the end of the stick he wasn't holding down and used his free hand to shake Bobby's arm. "Dude, the coast is clear."

Bobby opened his eyes. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." He repeated. Losing interest, Henry tossed the stick to the thick bushes. Their attention was exerted on the object he tossed so much that they didn't even notice the raven's eyes snap open.

"That sucks. Let's go. I'm starving."

"Hold on, I wanna see if we put it into shock or something." Henry walked up closer to the fallen animal and knelt down. He picked up a twig and prodded it again. This time instead of its side, the twig ended up touching its stomach. The touch was more than enough to trigger the bird to toss its body over to land on its feet. It then lunged at very surprised Henry. The crow's wings flapped wildly as it began to claw and peck at his head.

Henry lost his balance and fell down with a hard thud. He wanted to scream out for Bobby to help him, but his voice had seemed to fade away as soon as he tried. All other feelings turned into fear.

The area around his neck cried out in pain every time he felt the claws of the bird dig into his skin. His hands tried to grasp the creature attacking him, but his eyes were closed tightly to avoid the possibility of the bird scratching them out. Each time he reached out he didn't grab it. A warm liquid began to drip down his neck. The fear intensified.

This must have what the other people felt when they were attacked.

He would rarely get scared. In fact, if he had to count all the times he was truly frightened it would fit on one hand. He added this time on the second hand.

Unsuspectingly, he heard a loud smack above his head. Everything the bird was doing to him stopped. Cracking open one eye, he saw that the bird was not above him anymore. He turned his body around, ignoring the throbbing pain his neck felt. The bird was indeed gone, but it was a bittersweet accomplishment. It had turned its attention towards Bobby. His arms covered his face as the bird thrashed itself at his back. The fear that he felt for himself turned to his friend. He tried to find something to help him, but failed. He looked back at the horror in front of him happening. He glanced down to try to pull out his slingshot, but it wasn't in his pocket.

He looked back up, feeling defenseless. He had to help him some way, any way. As he tried to think of a way, the fear of not being to do anything caused something in him burst out. The bird began to inflate slightly and it exploded. Henry blinked his eyes as he felt the force go off. Opening them, he saw black feathers all over the place. Most were twirling down to the ground. He opened his hand to catch one. It landed with grace. Remembering the situation, he tossed it to the side.

Henry saw the bird, or what was left of it. It wasn't dead at all, but all the feathers it had had been stripped off like it were a turkey ready for Thanksgiving. The naked bird flapped the stubby things it now had that were wings violently. He thought it was trying to fly. Henry stifled a giggle as it flapped its stubs some more while running away.

"Man, getting knocked over twice today's a pain." Bobby stood up on his feet. His hair was slightly uneven now since the crow ripped off some of his hair, but he looked okay. "Where'd the crow go? What happened…?" He asked as he realized the ground and himself was covered in black feathers. He picked one off his shoulder and examined it.

"Doesn't matter," Henry said quickly, "I-I pulled it off and it moved around a lot," he continued, trying to make his story believable, "the bird flew away. But how'd you get the bird off of me?" His eyes traveled around and he saw his slingshot lying on the ground. He picked it up while waiting for his response.

Bobby groaned as he rubbed his back. "I found another large stick and I hit it like it was a baseball," he stepped to the side and kicked the stick. "I fell on it when it got me."

Henry chuckled, but stopped as he felt the liquid droplets down his neck again. He slowly brought his hand up to the side of his neck, wiped it, and brought it back. The hand was streaked with blood. The thin line of blood went from the top part of his palm to the tip of his fingers. He began to feel pain again when he touched the sensitive spot.

"You're bleeding!" Bobby exclaimed.

Henry gave him a dirty look. "Of coarse I'm bleeding!" He snapped.

Bobby flinched. "We gotta get you home right now."

* * *

><p>"All done," said a woman as she patted down the bandage around Henry's neck. As she stood up, he rubbed the sore spot. It still throbbed, but not as much as before. "Now tell me, why are you both so dirty? And where did you get these scratches?" She picked out several twigs from Henry's hair.<p>

"Mom, I'm telling you, the bird attacked him and me," repeated Bobby, who had a bandage around his forehead. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because you said that a leprechaun jumped you and broke your arm a few weeks ago. Now Henry, what happened?"

"We're telling you the truth Mrs. Vasquez. It attacked us," Henry said. "It attacked us after we got it first. We shot it with rocks and our slingshots."

Mrs. Vasquez sighed. "Bobby, did I tell you to not shoot at animals?"

He looked down. "Yes."

"Then why did you do it?" She asked.

"We got lost in the moment. I promise to never to it again," said Bobby.

Bobby's mother gave him a look that said '_We'll talk about this later'_. Afterwards, she examined the bandage on Henry's neck once more. "You better call your mother and tell her Henry. She'll be upset if you don't."

"I can't," he simply said.

"Why not?"

"Our phone is disconnected," he replied, "has been for three days."

The woman sighed deeply. She rubbed her forehead. "You boys go on and eat in the kitchen. I'll take you home after. And no buts Bobby," She added at the end when she saw that he was going to talk back at her. "Go on now. We have church to attend to in an hour."

Henry and Bobby left the living room in silence. They filled their plates in silence, but began to chat as they sat down. Henry felt bitter as he talked with him. This moment was bound to happen. It was inevitable. All the time they spent together would mean nothing. This would be the last meal they would eat together as well as the last chat. After all, eating together would be impossible if Henry was moving overseas to London.

_Henry, we're leaving Lake Tahoe. We'll be leaving to go live in London._

When he first heard the news, he didn't know what to think. The first normal reaction would be to throw a fit, but Henry didn't. He felt an odd happiness at the thought of going back to the place he was born. It was like he was waiting for this moment all his life. But moments later, he became upset. He didn't want to leave the place where he has lived a majority of his life. The lake, the forest, everything here he didn't want to leave behind. Why should he, anyway? He shouldn't have to start his life over again if he didn't want to.

They had an argument that night. Henry ended up locking himself in his room for a whole weekend only to leave to grab something to eat at night and use the bathroom. He indeed was upset, yet the more he thought about it, he wondered what would happen and answer the questions he has always wanted answers to: Why did those things happen when he was angry? Would he find his real family?

The idea of possibly finding his real family excited him. He had known he was adopted for some time and the thought of being able to find out about them and maybe even form some sort of relationship with them made him slightly anxious to go. Perhaps from them he could find out about why he had those weird moments, like with Derek and the bird.

He could only hope at this point.

* * *

><p>Henry, instead of sitting at the table and eating with Bobby, sat in a small red car with Bobby's mother driving it. As she drove, she reminisced about the times they were smaller. "I still remember when you both running around here in capes pretending to be Batman and Superman. After that you kids would pretend to battle each other. You both were so cute back then."<p>

"Uh-huh," he said, staring out of the window in front of them, but still listened to her. His stomach was full, but the closer they were getting to his home, he felt sick. Possibly he was dreading to enter the home he was raised in one last time before they departed, or knowing that the last time he would see Bobby and his mother would be today. Either thought didn't fit well in his mind.

"There were also those times when you both would stay up late at night and watch scary movies. Howard and I knew what was going on, but we didn't have the heart to tell you kiddos to go back to bed. The two of you would always sneak around. But I must tell you, you need to practice on being quieter. I'm not condemning your behavior nor promoting it, but if you do plan on being sneaky, do it right," She continued on babbling at this point, much like her son. The more she talked, the view to his house was becoming bigger and bigger. "And don't tell your mother I'm saying these things. It's just between you and me."

"Yes Mrs. Vasquez," said Henry with a smile. He could see a smile tug at her lips.

"You are a very bright child Henry," she began to say, becoming serious at this point, "you may not act like it all the time, but if you focus on your goals, you can do great things. I want you to remember that. Don't settle with less. Go the extra mile."

"I will." He said.

"Good," Mrs. Vasquez said as the car stopped moving. "Be good for your mother now," she turned to him and ruffled his reddish-brown hair.

"Okay," he said as he began to open the door. His leg swung out and was followed by his other leg. "Bye Mrs. Vasquez."

"Good-bye Henry. Don't forget to send us letters!" She managed to call out before he closed the door. Henry nodded to show he heard what she said. He backed up and watched the car turn around. Black smoke trailed after the car. The boy coughed momentarily, but regained his composure to watch the car become smaller the farther it went. Sighing, he turned around to make his way back into the house.

_Good-bye Bobby and Mrs. Vasquez,_ he thought before adding, _forever._

He turned around and walked up the small flight of stairs before placing his hand on the handle. The door clicked open and he pushed his way into the small house. He was greeted with an empty room. The usual furniture that would accompany the room was not present. Instead, the couches, shelves, and even the TV were sold. His heart pains at the memories he had of jumping on the bouncy couches and attempts at climbing shelves as if he were Spiderman. The only evidence that such materials were here were the flattened spots the furniture used to be.

"Mom, I'm back!" he called out. Just before he was about to step in, he remembered about yesterday when she yelled at him for walking inside with his dirty shoes. Henry carefully wiped his boots across the outside door mat.

_Welcome home._

_Yeah right,_ thought Henry. Out loud he said, "I gotta talk to you!"

Faintly, he heard her yell back, "Take your shoes off before you come in!"

Henry had his foot halfway in. Grumbling, he slid them off and lazily tossed the brown boots covered with mud and leaves out. "Where are you?"

"In the kitchen, honey. I'm just finishing some last minute cleaning from your birthday party."

_How could I forget?_ Henry thought, a grin forming on his face as he remembered the events that took place yesterday. _All that silly string we sprayed on each other. That was so much fun!_

He made his way through the empty living room, not noticing that the remaining twigs and leaves that clung to his sweatshirt and hair were beginning to plunge downward onto the clean, white carpet. He rubbed his feet across the ground as he headed to the kitchen. Henry poked his head though the opening.

His mother was dumping dust into a trashcan. She clasped her hands together once she dumped the dust pan in the garbage too. "Ugh, finally finished! The house is spotless now," she turned around. Henry's mother was a short, Asian woman. Her dark curly hair, which normally would rest below her shoulders, was currently tied in a bun. When she was ready to go out to dinner, he thought she looked very pretty. But right now, she had an extremely tired look on her face. "All my house cleaning is complete," the tired expression her face held was filled with shock. "Oh my god, Henry!"

Dropping the broom from her free hand, she quickly rushed to Henry's side. "Henry, what the hell happened to you?!" She exclaimed, feeling the bandages around his neck. His breath hitched when her hands roam around the bandages. Slightly, Henry's mother opened up the wrapped injury. "Tell me who did this to you!"

"Me and Bobby. Crow. Attacked it. Hurting neck." He managed to say. The pressure she exerted on his neck lessened. "Thanks," Henry then explained the story on how he and Bobby encountered the bird, shot at it with their slingshots, and were attacked by it afterwards. He left out the important detail in the end to only replace it with saying he whacked it with a stick like Bobby did. "You should have seen it Mom. The bird went flying away like a baseball."

Henry's mother let go of the bandage. He looked up at her to see her reaction. She looked down fiercely at him saying, "Did I not tell you to not harm anything?"

"Yes, but—"

"I deliberately said 'Don't hurt anything with those contraptions', am I right?"

He nodded.

"And yet you go behind my back. I told you that damn bird was out there. Why? Why did you do this? What would you have done is you had an asthma attack? You always forget your inhaler! Besides, just look at you! You're a mess! We're about to leave for the airport in forty-five minutes and you look like an army soldi—" She caught herself in mid-sentence. Henry had visible pain in his eyes, knowing fully what she was going to say. Her eyes softened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Just-just clean yourself up and bring your stuff down. I'll be next door to call a taxi. You'll be good, 'kay?"

"Yes Mother," he replies quietly. She pulls him into a hug, in which he bites his tongue as he felt pain shoot through his neck. He gritted his teeth to prevent from crying out.

Moments later, he watched her quickly walk out the back door. He sighed and turned back. His eyes widened when he saw the mess he made. In an instant, he picked up every single leaf and twig that fell off his body. He could've sworn he felt himself break into sweat.

Henry ran up the stairs to make up for the lost time. The door opened when he pushed it with little force. He only saw a couple of medium-sized boxes and a backpack. Slipping on the backpack first, he picked up the three boxes with ease. Strength wasn't something you'd expect out of him. Calling Henry scrawny was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was the word that best described his body structure. Then again, he preferred to be scrawny-looking over chubby like he was in his baby pictures.

Henry felt something slip out of his backpack as he walked to the stairs. Setting the boxes down, he picked up the item that fell. It was his inhaler.

So he _did_ forget to bring it.

Great.

He sighed. Relief washed over him. Suffering from an asthma attack would've been the worst situation possible during the crow attack. The thoughts of his inhaler brought back to him remembering what his mother said just minutes ago. How could she say such thing and bring up—up _him_?

_It was only because she was angry,_ a voice said as he lifted back up the boxes.

He was timidly walking down the stairs when his own voice replied, _She couldn't have been _that_ angry._

Of course she was.

* * *

><p>Henry anxiously sat in the chair, twirling his thumbs around. He had never been in a plane before. Or thinking on that matter, he'd never been in the air before. No more than ten feet. Heights were something he didn't really like. Perhaps he was scared of going in the air at a ridiculously high height.<p>

"We will be leaving in one minute," an intercom voice said.

He let out a small whimper and pulled up his hoodie to try to his face. The muscles inside his chest contracted as his heartbeat increased. Quickly pulling out his inhaler from his backpack, Henry it into his mouth and pressed down, releasing the medicine into his lungs. The walls of his lungs loosened. His heartbeat slowed down.

Henry's mother turned to him as soon as she saw his actions. "I told you, no hood when we're under a roof," she calmly pulled it back down, noticing his expression, "honey, are you all right? You look sick." She put her hand on his forehead. He began to squirm upon her contact.

"I'm fine," he said, "really. I am. I swear. Please stop, there are other people."

She took her hand off his forehead, and he put his inhaler into the pocket of his sweater. "If you feel like throwing up, then tell me right away." She pulled out a magazine from her purse, but still kept her eyes on him to try to see if he was lying.

"So, what will happen when we get there?" Henry tried to change the subject. It seemed to work. Her eyes lightened up in sudden realization.

"I forgot to tell you that after I called the taxi company, I contacted your aunt. We're going to be picked up by her as soon as we get off. That won't be for another nine hours. You can take a nap if you need it, but I'm warning you; I'll wake you up after an hour or two because it'll be about midnight when we get there."

"I don't need a nap. I'm ten!" He unzipped his backpack again and pulled out a book. "Watch me," He opened it up and proceeded to read the first page of _James and the Giant Peach_. "I'll be finished with it by the time we get there!"

An hour and a half later, Henry was asleep, leaning against his mother's shoulder. She half-smiled as he curled up closer to her body. The book he was reading set on his leg. The woman picked up his book and folded the upper corner to keep his spot. Her son managed to read a little more than halfway before he fell asleep. It was quite an amazing feat if he could read 96 pages in an hour.

She tucked the book to the side of his leg. Then, she stroked his soft, dark red hair. They were about to begin a brand new life together with the slate written off clean. Perhaps then they could put the past behind them. She practically threw away everything else for Henry, her son. Her _non-biological_ son. But genes didn't matter just as long as they loved each other. She raised him since he could learn his first words.

Very softly, she placed a kiss on his forehead.

_Sweet dreams my little angel._


	3. Home Sweet Home

_Darkness. The room was encased in total darkness. Henry couldn't see any thing no matter how hard he tried. He squinted to try to see ahead of him. No success. Through the corner of his eyes, he saw a small blue light. The little light made things easier to see. He turned his head towards it and saw the light protruded at the tip of a stick. The light was changing into different colors— red, yellow, and orange emitted from it for a few seconds, and then the colors changed back to blue. The pattern repeated over and over again. He became infatuated with touching it. He held out his hands._

_What he saw surprised him. His fingers were incredibly short and the palms of his hands were small. They had to three times smaller than his current hands. Wanting to examine them more closely, he tried to pull one back, but he didn't have control over them. The small hands swatted at the ever-changing lights, trying to reach it. A childish giggle escaped his lips_— _very childish indeed. He sounded like a baby._

_Above him, someone laughed deep and long. It wasn't malicious, but full of kindness and compassion with a hint of playfulness. Henry liked the laugh. It comforted him. As he slowly looked up at the person, he realized that whoever laughed was also controlling the stick. The hands that gripped the stick were big and strong-looking. Despite the possible ability of breaking the light stick with ease, the hands held the stick gently. Henry could tell that the handler was male._

_His eyes traveled upwards to try to find the man's face. Unfortunately, the stick didn't give off enough brightness to see the man's face. But he could tell one thing about the man: he had raven hair._

_The light was now emitting thin lines as the man began to slowly wave the stick around, creating rainbow colors as it moved in a mish-mash of lines. Henry's attention span focused back on what the man was doing. The small hands that were supposed to be his smacked together to create a noise that resembled a clap. Another baby giggle came out of his mouth with no control. The hands then proceeded to try to grab the colorful lines the stick created. The lines he tried to touch faded into nothingness._

_Words. The man was saying words. Soft, loving words. He broke his attention to stare at the man. He couldn't detect what he was saying. Sentences the man was saying echoed through the room. He couldn't pick up what he was saying. But he probably wouldn't have noticed his voice because he was focusing on the man's eyes. The lights the lines created bounced off the glasses he wore and he saw the color he had._

_Hazel._

Henry's _color._

_Why did this man have his__ eyes?_

_Suddenly, before he could ponder on the question, Henry heard a door slam. The slam was so loud he could have been knocked backwards if the man had not instinctively caught him with his hands. He felt the strong hands grip him and pull him up. They were comforting, just like his voice. He could not bask in the warmth because the person who slammed the door came in, going berserk. The man or woman was screaming at the man who held Henry. The words they tried to say again echoed in the room to the point where he couldn't hear them._

_The man with Henry's eyes then gave him to the stranger. By the thin and gentle hands, Henry figured the person was a female. The woman then quickly rushed up a flight of stairs, not realizing she was holding Henry high enough to peek above her shoulders. They were about halfway up when he saw the door swung open. A cloaked figure walked into the room. He saw a faint blue light flash towards it, but the light clashed into a green light that protruded from the figure's stick it held. The two colors fought for dominance. The green overtook the blue, and the man fell to the ground, unmoving._

_He was unable to see what would happen next because the person had brought him to a small room, slamming the door behind herself when she ushered themselves in. She sat him into a crib. Her auburn hair (which suspiciously looked a lot like his hair color) tickled his face when she moved him. He looked at her, and was unable to see her face. The darkness hid most of it, but he could see her eyes. Her emerald green eyes were filled with love, sadness, and fear. A tear trickled down her face and fell onto the black of his palm. She tried to say words, but like the times before he could not understand what she said._

_The door they entered through suddenly thrashed open and a dark-clothed figure entered the room. The woman quickly turned around and turns her attention to it as she stood in front of Henry, blocking his view from seeing the figure. They exchanged a few sentences. By the hand movement, the form was trying to tell her to move aside, but she did not. She refused. Another green light flashed in the room. The woman that stood in front of him abruptly fell onto the ground like the man not even five minutes ago. He peered through the bars of the crib to see her eyes—which were full of emotions before__—__were empty. Blank. Soulless._

_The figure stepped over the fallen body. He couldn't see the face that belonged to the figure no matter how hard he tried. Once the figure took the place where the fallen woman was, it held out its hand to point at him with a stick, just like the man downstairs had. In a split-second, a bright green flash spewed out of the jagged stick towards Henry's face—_

Henry's eyes snapped open, both wide and full of shock. Sweat dripped from his forehead. Wiping it off with the back of his hand, he quickly glanced around his surroundings. He was still in the plane. He remembered he and Mom were heading off to London. He tried to see where she was because she was not present.

_She must've gone to the bathroom,_ he thought, calming down as he wiped off more sweat from his brow. His chest was beating at a million miles per hour. He could distinctively hear the thumping his heart made. Henry relaxed into his chair, letting his racing heart slow down. The boy tried to find his inhaler, but thankfully his heart slowed down before he needed to use it.

He closed his eyes for a moment, vividly picturing the dream like he had done so many times before. Truthfully, it was not the first time he had this dream. At least once a month he would see himself as that small little baby through its eyes, like he was the child. It felt so real at times that he could remember every little detail in the dream. He never understood why he had those dreams. The people he saw (excluding the cloaked figure since he didn't see who it was) were not people he knew. Or, at least, remember. There was something about them that drawn Henry to them. They seemed so pure, so serene. If he saw them right now he would trust them in a heartbeat.

He had thought perhaps they were his birth parents, but that theory wasn't possible. Mom said he was given straight to the adopting agency a little while after he was born, so he couldn't have been in that room. So who were they? He could ponder on about the adults, but there was something else in his dream that he wanted to think about for a minute. What were those sticks for, and how could they do those tricks.

Tricks—magic tricks? The thoughts of "magic tricks" brought the young boy back to the memory of the pointy-nosed, round faced bully from many years ago. Glaring heavily, the older, beady-black eyed kid pulled him up by his sweater, preparing to pound him.

_You won't get away with your little magic trick!_

Henry pushed the memory out of his head. What the man and the cloaked figure had done was indeed magical, Henry could not deny that. They had to have been magicians. But even if they were, the dream made no sense. How could you shoot out colors through sticks? Why did that green ray make the adults fall down? Who were the man and the woman? What was under the cloak—?

_Calm down Henry,_scolded the voice in his head. _It's just a dream. Dreams aren't suppose to make sense. Stop overanalyzing._

He sighed and roughly dug into the side pocket of his backpack thinking,_stop doing that, head! It's weird and creepy._

A small black package was pulled out of his backpack by him. He sat up straight to examine the package more clearly. It was covered with small red dots with the words "POP ROCKS" on the front side of the package in bold, red letters. Henry practically drooled at the sight. He couldn't wait to eat it. Ripping the package open, he poured some of the candy onto his tongue. The sweet candy cackled and popped in his mouth, just like the title claimed. The back of his throat rumbled with glee at the feeling. His mind warped around the candy, and he forgets his previous thoughts on the dream. If he had continued to think, he would've wondered if there were connections to his incidents and the dream.

"I see you're finally awake," said his mother when she sits down in her seat. "I was going to wake you up as soon as I returned, but it seems your own body clock did it for me." She peers at him when he wiped some Pop Rocks off the corner of his mouth. Her disapproving frown caused him to shrink in his seat, like he was four years old. "Do not eat all of that stuff. You'll be bouncing off the walls by the time we get there. It's pure sugar."

"I know, I know." He replied before pouring the rest of the candy into his mouth.

"I'm serious."

"I _know_," he repeated. "I promise I won't eat any more. They make my tooth hurt sometimes." When he saw she was going to further ask why his tooth hurt, he quickly said, "Mom, how long will it be till we get off?"

She merely said, "We still have a long way to go."

* * *

><p>"Thank you for choosing our airline. Have a good day in London." The female intercom voice said as Henry rolled his suitcase down the aisle alongside his mother. He thought it was silly for the voice to say to have a good day when it was supposed to be the time when people here went to bed. It felt weird for him to be up at one in the morning and not feel remotely tired. <em>I suppose I better get use to it<em>, he thought. He pulled up the strap from his sliding backpack.

"Where's my, um, aunt?" Henry asked. "And how will we know who she is? I mean, if it is true you haven't seen her in years then she might've changed a lot."

"She's probably holding up a sign just right around the corner. And don't be such a little worrywart;" she ruffled his hair, "I'll be able to recognize her after nine years."

"Okay. I get it. You're a seer." He grinned when he heard her chuckle. He loved it when she laughed. Now thinking about that, he liked making people happy in general.

As the mother and son rolled around the corner amongst the people who were on the plane, Henry saw many strangers hustle in the large room doing their own business; men and women were standing in long lines waiting for plane tickets, anxious adults dragging small, yawning children, but most people were sitting down patiently, waiting for their flights. Most of them chatted. Their British accents caused him to feel alien-like in this new strange land. He realized his aunt could've been any woman in this room. The woman's appearance wasn't known to him since he only saw her a few times, and that was when he was a baby. He knew she was from… _his_ side of the family, but that did not bring very many clues.

Suddenly his mom shouted, "Gwenog! Gwenog, over here!" She raised her hand up and began to wave. At first Henry thought she was yelling blindly at the crowd, only hoping for a response. Much to his surprise a hand shot up after a few seconds. The hand then lowered, and the woman began to move through the mass of people. Once his aunt was out of the crowd, she walked towards them, a big smile plastered on her face. He was able to see what she looked like.

Gwenog was a tall, fair-skinned woman. She had dark brown hair tied in a ponytail that fell below her shoulders and had light brown eyes. She looked quite young. Her bright facial expression made her look around 20. The most distinctive thing he noticed about her was her body (no, not in the way teenager's think). Her body was built quite well. If he had to bet on who would win in a fight between his mother and her, she'd be his bet. The closer she got, the taller she became and her upper torso seemed to become more ripped. He felt himself become intimidated.

"Kai! It's so great to see you!" Gwenog exclaimed. She and Kai shared a bear hug. Once they separated, she added, "It's been so long since I last saw you."

"It's great to see you too," Henry's mother said. "I'm glad we finally got to come here. My goodness, you did change a lot. The last time I saw you, you were just a little squirt getting ready to go to school for the second time around."

"What can I say? A few years of being a Beater shaped me up." She patted her left shoulder, showing off her muscles.

Meanwhile, Henry was wondering what she meant by a "Beater".

_A Beater? What's a Beater? Is it someone who beats up people for money?_ Henry thought.

Gwenog then turns her attention towards Henry. She gives him a toothy smile. "You must be Henry. It's great to finally meet my only nephew again," she held out her hand for a shake. He slowly took it. The reddish-brown hair on his head began to bounce wildly when she shook him hand. "You were so small when you were a baby, and now look at you! You got big. Turning ten is a huge accomplishment."

Once she finished the hand-shake, Gwenog said, "You know, I got you a present."

"Really?" Henry asked, his eyes growing big with excitement. All the previous nervousness was gone. "You did?"

"You bet I did!" She put her hand into her coat pocket. His aunt pulled out a maroon beanie with golden yellow stripes. One stripe was around the top of his head and two stripes just above where the hat folded. On the folded part of the hat were his initials "H. J." sketched in golden letters. "This was a pain in the arse to make. Knitting isn't my thing, but I made it just for you." She held it out to him. He took it. "Go on, try it on." Gwenog encouraged.

Henry stared at it for a moment longer until he opened it and pulled it over his head. Some of his hair stuck out from underneath. It was a little too big for him, but he loved it. "Thanks Aunt Gwenog!"

She laughed heartily. "You don't have to call me by my full first name. It makes me feel old. Gwen is just fine."

"Thanks Aunt Gwen," he repeated, realizing it had a better ring to it.

"No problem Sport. We should head out to the car and go out to eat," said Gwenog, "You both must be starving after a ten hour trip. I know a small hamburger stand a few miles away that has the best chips in the world. It's open 24 hours a day. C'mon, now."

As she began to lead them, Henry tugged on his mother's shirt with his free hand whispering, "Why do they sell chips at a burger place?"

"Chips mean French fries here, Hon." She stated calmly, laughing silently as his face scrunched up in confusion.

"That's weird."

"I know it is, but we have to adjust. London is our home now."

* * *

><p>"I'm so stuffed," groaned Henry, rubbing his sore stomach as he sat in the back of the car. The two adults sat in the front with his mom driving and Gwenog giving directions. He discovered another thing that separated the United States and Great Britain: the driver's seat was on the opposite side of the car. It felt weird watching his mother drive on the opposite side of the car.<p>

_With all the differences, I might as well make a list why I feel like an alien._"I can't move. I think I'm gonna explode any minute."

"Dear goodness Henry, you ate quite a load. I would've thought you were fifteen with all the food you ate," jokes Gwenog as she sat in the passenger's seat.

"See what I have to cook for," added Kai. "It's like I'm cooking for two boys." The women exchanged laughs. Despite him being part of the joke, Henry laughed with them.

As they finished, Gwenog told Henry's mom to turn left. "We're almost there. I'd say we have about five more minutes until we show up at your new home."

"Again, I can't thank you enough for finding us a place to stay. We didn't have the time with all the packing and selling the old home," Kai said. "And not to mention I need to find a new job. The money I received from the house should last us for a while, but I want to put most of it in the bank."

"It's no problem. I knew the old woman who lived here. She was a bit of a loner, but she used to baby sit me and Hestia when we were in nappies. Very nice lady," Gwenog smiled, "so sad she passed away a few years ago. In her will she left the house and her assets to me. Don't know why since Hestia would've been the more primary candidate, but I suppose she favored me more," she let her grin grow more.

"Who's Hestia?" asked Henry.

"Hestia is you other aunt." His mother said.

"She's my older sis by 6 years. You can consider me the baby out of us. Hestia would've been here, but said her job was in the way. Expect her to pop up in a few days to check on you guys." Gwenog peered through the windshield. "Okay, just pull up in this driveway to your left."

As the car slowed down to park in the driveway, Henry wiped fog off the window of the side he sat. He tried to get a glance of the new house, but the darkness made him unable to see. The fingers of his hand began to make swirl designs all over the window. It was warm in the car considering they turned on the heater due to it being chilly outside. He grimaced at the thought of getting out and standing in the cold. He normally would've felt immune since Lake Tahoe had relatively cold weather he could stand, but it was dark outside. Cold weather and the darkness didn't fit well in his mind.

The car came to a full stop. The adults began to unbuckle their seats and open the doors as Kai turned off the car. Henry stayed inside for a few more moments before doing the same. Henry slammed the door shut and looked up to stare at the house he was going to live in.

The house was Victorian-styled, two stories high. Most of the house was painted light gray, but there were some parts of the house where the paint was starting to chip. There were approximately eleven windows her could count out, including the smaller ones. The window seals were painted sharp red that stuck out at the first look. On the far right side of the building, there was a large window seat with three large windows covering the area. Bricks were the foundation, and even they too looked very old. Everything about this house screamed old. He continued to stare at it some more before following the two women up a flight of stairs. _Creak…. Creak…_Each step he took the stairs responded with a painful screech.

"…You're going to love it here. There are three bedrooms and it's completely furnished. You may have to buy the usual necessities as what normal folks would need: plates, eating utensils, new bed sheets, yada yada. Power works and water does too," Gwenog dug into her pocket for the keys to open the door, "everything's fixed up. Only took me about fifteen minutes to get the extra stuff moved up into the attic." She put a key into the keyhole, turned the key in a full circle, and pushed the door. "Go on, take a look."

Henry was the first to take a step in. The room was dark, so he felt the wall for a switch. He flipped it. The room was indeed furnished with a large three-seated dark brown couch. On the other side was a smaller couch of the same color. There was a small rug underneath a coffee table in the center of the room. To his left was a small black TV resting atop a black TV stand. He blew atop of the television, and a small dust cloud formed. He stepped around the coffee table and noticed the sides were chipped partially. There were a few stains on the larger couch as he examined it more closely.

_Hope those stains in the middle are from spilt coffee…_

"It's cozy," Kai marveled at the sight. "Thank you so much for fixing up this place. But I have to ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"What do you mean by 'extra stuff'?"

"Well," Gwenog paused, rubbing the back of her neck, "Mrs. Birch had a hard time letting things go. She thought everything was important. Trinkets, books, newspapers, trash, you name it. In other words, she was a hoarder. Hestia and I were too little to know. Poor woman was found after a week she passed, and it was by some boy who brought her groceries."

Henry stopped examining the yellow paint in the room. "She died in _here_?" His hand that rested on the smaller couch's armrest slowly slid off.

"Why don't you go on and explore the rest of the house Henry?" Kai asked. "You can even go and pick out your own room."

"Okay," Henry reluctantly trudged up the flight of stairs, still wary at the fact they were going to live in a house where a person dies.

"He's such a cute kid," Gwenog tells Kai. "He makes me want to almost settle down and have my own family. Almost." They laughed for a minute, but she turned serious. "How bad is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the damage my brother did. You said Henry went to some Muggle doctor to talk to him about his feelings."

"Henry, well, he has trust issues with older men and he hides his feelings from people. The therapist said he'll open up more the older he gets, especially if he makes some friends. The best thing for him was to start somewhere fresh. He has asthma from his smoking habit. But other than that he's perfectly healthy. "

Gwenog leaned against the door after she closed it. "I just can't believe he could do something like that," she rubbed her temple, "he fooled all of us. He's not my brother anymore after all the shit he's put you both through. That scumbag Squib better rot wherever he is."

"All that matters is that he's gone. Anyways, let's just change the subject," Kai smiled, "how did you get that car into the lot if you don't know how to drive?"

"A Muggle-born member on the team drove it for me," she stated simply, "and on the subject of magic, is Henry magical? Because if he is I really want to take him to one of my games one day. The kid looks like he could really enjoy flying."

"Please, he almost had a heart attack when the plane took off." She chuckled at the memory. "I think he might be a wizard. One time…."

* * *

><p><em>Kai was incredibly stressed. She was running late for a bake sale, and Henry was throwing a tempter tantrum. She had just scooped the last cookie from a second batch that were pulled from the over about ten minutes ago to cool off. The woman then placed the jar on the top of the fridge; her son had a knack of climbing onto the counter, but the feat would be impossible with the fridge.<em>

_Three-year-old Henry, upon seeing the two dozen or so chocolate cookies, began to cry even harder. "Cookie! I wanna cookie!"_

"_No Henry, those are for the bake sale." Kai replied firmly. Henry responded by sobbing louder, chanting "Cookie, cookie" as she pulled out her phone to tell Mirabelle that she was going to run a little late. When she was done, she snaps the phone shut. "Don't move; Mommy has to put on her earrings. Then we'll leave." She commanded before heading into the nearby bathroom._

_Henry sniffled. His young mind could only focus on the delicious treats awaiting for him above. He held out his hands, trying to desperately to reach it. A whine escapes his pouting lips._

_The jar, without any warning, levitates a few inches from the fridge top and slowly lowers down. Henry tilts his head to the side, not understanding how this phenomenon was happening. When the jat was completely lowered to the ground it sets itself on the floor. The baby waddles towards the cookies, and began to gorge himself with the desert. He sat on his bottom, taking another cookie with his left hand as he continued to bite the one he was eating. Gooey chocolate oozed all over his fingers. He didn't question what happened; he was still just a baby._

"_Okay Henry, let's go. They're starting the…." His mother stopped when she saw her child with the jar. There was no way he could reach it. Henry turns around, grinning mischievously, revealing chocolate-covered teeth._

* * *

><p>"…The refrigerator was about two meters high. At first I thought he must've used a chair to climb up the counter to reach for them, but there was no chair in the room. The only explanation I could think of was magic. But if he isn't, I don't want to put him into the wizarding world if he isn't a wizard. It might break his self-esteem if he's told he's something this big."<p>

"That sounds convincing. There are always tests. I remember hearing about how a child was dangled by his feet out a window and the man, his uncle, let go."

Kai's eyes widened. "That-that's horrible."

"He didn't get hurt or anything; the boy bounced back up."

"I'm not comfortable with throwing my son out a window."

"Just a suggestion," Gwenog stopped talking and then said, "His grandmother was good friends with Mrs. Birch, and they live in the neighborhood. Perhaps we can set up some sort of friendship meeting between them."

Kai smiled. "That is a wonderful idea! ...Just as long as his uncle doesn't try the same thing to my son."

In the middle of her sentence, Gwenog uncontrollably yawned. "Excuse me; I guess I'm really tired. I have Quidditch practice tomorrow early in the morning. Better get going. Oh, and also," she turned towards Kai, "here you go." Gwenog handed her sister-in-law keys to the house and to the car. Kai realized this, and began shaking her head.

"Oh no, no, no, I cannot take this. It's way too much."

"Please, just take it. I don't need a car. I can just apparate. Take it. You're going to have a job soon and you need a car to get there." She thrusts the second set of keys into her hands.

Kai stared at the keys in her hands. Then, she said, "You cannot imagine how much I appreciate everything you're doing. Thank you. I promise to pay you back every pound as soon as I can."

"It's no problem. I'll see you later Kai." After a pop sound, Gwenog was gone.

Henry came running down the stairs a minute later. "Hey Mom, I—" He noticed his aunt was gone. "Where's Aunt Gwen?"

"She left for her job. It's really late. We should go to bed too," she began to usher him up the stairs. "We after all have to adjust out sleeping schedule."

"But I'm not tired," protested the ten-year-old.

"We have a long day ahead of us. We have to do a quick clean up of the house, go shopping for food and new clothes, set up our new address for the post office, register you for the next school term, contact utility companies to check the house, and many more things."

Henry groaned. He had discovered a door that led to an attic. He was going to tell her about what he found, but now she was going to make him go to bed! Sleep wasn't on his mind. Curiosity was.

_I'll just wait until she falls asleep. Then I can go up there to see what the old lady kept. I hope I don't find bodies._

* * *

><p>Slowly, Henry turned the knob and carefully pushed the door. It responded with a drawn-out creak. He stopped his actions in fear of his mother hearing him. When he was sure she did not, he began to push the door some more. There was enough space for him to squeeze through now. He carefully slid in and shut the door behind him so slowly there was only a faint 'click' sound. The boy let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that almost every step he made the house would let out a squeak, as if trying to alarm the woman who was sleeping a few feet away. She was way more tired than he was. His only hope was that she would stay sleeping through all the noise he was bound to make.<p>

Henry realized he was only done with the first phase. The second phase was getting up the next flight of stairs. Relief washed over him as he noticed there were only about ten steps to make before he reached his destination. Running a hand through his hair, he put his foot over the step and slowly pressed down. The step didn't make a noise. He felt his chest swell up with pride that he didn't make a sound. The boy then took another step, this time with more confidence.

_Creak…_

He held in his breath. _One, two, three, four, five_. Stopping counting in his head, he figured she didn't hear him. Painfully slow, he walked each step as softly as he did the first step. He repeated the process. Henry nearly collapsed in exhaustion when he finished. Hands on his knees, he took a quick glance at the room after he switched on a light. It was probably as big as the living room, but cluttered with junk. Some things looked like they were newer, but most had to have been made in the 1900's. Going through everything was going to be a challenge, but he was up to it. He decided to try to start at the left and make his way around.

The boy walked over to a table topped with books. The books were stack in two rows and each had to be at least a foot taller than he was. Reaching over with his right hand, he pulled a book down, skimmed through it, and was disappointed it was only an encyclopedia. He set it down and picked up the next one. This book was only a dictionary. The rest of the books in this pile were either an encyclopedia or a dictionary. He turned his attention to the next pile. This pile consisted or either a cookbook or magazines. Frustrated, he knocked the pile backwards. So far this was a bust.

He looked down again to see one book still on the table:

_Ho wa s, a Hi tor _

Picking up the book, he wiped off dust that collected on the title. It now read:

_Hogwarts, a History_

On the cover there was a large castle. He felt his mood perk up. _This book looks interesting. Better than a crummy magazine. I'm gonna read it after I'm done with my exploring._ He placed the book sitting upwards next to the hallway he came through and continued to explore the attic.

He found all sorts of things the further he looked. Clocks, chairs, paintings, broken bikes, dresses, mannequins, mannequins with clothes on, and lamps were what he found on the left side. Under some junk he discovered a pool table (much to his pleasure), but his happiness was destroyed when he couldn't find the pool balls or pool sticks. This gave him motivation to keep going. The further he moved along, the closed he was getting to stacks upon stacks of newspaper in the far right corner, but he didn't know this until he nearly tripped over a stack. When he maintained his balance by grabbing a hold of the wall, he glared at the newspapers and kicked the stack over. His actions caused some clothes to fall upon the fallen newspapers. Henry groaned, and began to pick up the clothes. Suddenly, he notices movement below him. In a picture.

He blinked. Something wasn't right. _No, it can't be. It's not moving. It's a trick of the light._ His curiosity is not satisfied with his answer. He slowly reached for the hat—

_Crash!_

Henry's attention is switched from the picture to the noise. He instantly stands up to try to see what made that noise was. It was a cat. An angry cat. The cat growled at him, baring its fangs as its ears folded back, threatening him. He wasn't going to be chased out.

"Shoo! Get!" Henry yelled at it. He picked up an old sneaker and throws it at the feline. The cat dodges the shoe and runs away. Henry followed it as best as he could without making too much noise and saw it disappear through a hole that leads outside.

"That was easy," he said flatly.

"Meoooow," something said a few feet away from the hole. The sound was followed by a chorus of meows. Henry glanced inside the box. His heart melted. Inside were four kittens.

"Aww, look at the wittle kitties," Henry said in baby-talk as he lifted up the box. The kittens began to squirm inside, curious about this strange creature. "Hello wittle kitties. You are so adorable."

One of the kittens, dark gray with black stripes, climbed out of the box and sniffed him. The others followed pursuit. The next one to come out was a white kitten with black paws and ears. Then, a light orange kitten climbed out the box. Finally, a completely black kitten followed the group. All the kittens purred as they investigated him. Henry giggled when he felt two rough tongues lick his hands. "You're all good kitties. Yes you are, yes you are." He petted each kitten. They purred in delight. He played with the kittens until he felt himself grow tired. He was finally going to fall asleep.

"I'm gonna get you kitties some food tomorrow. By the looks of your teeth, your mom was ready to leave way before I came along." The kittens struggled to get out of the box he put them back in, but they soon fell asleep in curled, tight balls. Henry got up and was about to leave when the dark gray kitten with black stripes followed him. The kitten wrapped itself around his leg, purring affectionately. "Not right now."

He picked it back up and placed the kitten back with the others. It curled up in a ball and fell asleep amongst its brother and sisters. He marveled at the sight for a few more minutes. A yawn told him to try to get some sleep. As he grabbed the book he found earlier, he slowly and carefully climbed down the stairs. He forgot all about the newspapers as he crashed into the bed in his new room, but it would not be the last time he stumbled upon them. Next time would change his perspective in life forever.

* * *

><p>Henry's finally in London, but he won't find Harry for some time.<p>

Who do you think was the boy dangled out of the window? I think most of us know who it is ;).

And also (before some people point out), I know there is another version of Gwenog being black, but she's not in my story. Her being related to Hestia Jones will be vital in the story.

Thank you for reading.


	4. The Theory

_August 15th, 1990_

Most boys around Henry's age would cringe at the thought of waking up early, but thanks to his mother's habit of doing so, he often found himself waking up at seven sharp, feeling crisp and ready for the day. But that was his old habit at Lake Tahoe. He now lived in London and was creating habit that wasn't entirely his fault, he thought. For the past few days he has been only getting handful hours of sleep; six to seven at the most. Henry's mom was being extremely tough on his to develop his older sleeping habit again, but his body just didn't listen to him. It told him he was tired in the morning, not so much in the afternoon, and was full of energy at night. Maybe it was the thrill of nighttime. He couldn't figure it out, but whatever it was he was feeling the effects right now as his mother tried to get him up.

"Time to get up," she said, walking briskly through his room. In his gut he suspected what she was going to do.

He's right. Kai thrusts open the window curtains and lets in the bright sunlight, piercing his eyes and making him momentarily go blind. He blinks several times, his vision turning back to normal. Oh how he hated when his mother did this! But he didn't want to anger her by complaining (or, more likely, didn't have the energy to even think about it.) He simply groaned in annoyance and covers his eyes with one of his two pillows.

"Five more minutes."

"No, we have a busy day today. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes. Get dressed by that time or the attic will be your room." With just that threat hanging in the air, she left the room.

Henry would've quickly fallen back asleep if it weren't for the sunlight. Realizing he had no choice, he throws the blankets off him as he sits up. His room has been furnished and would only continue to be. He had a dresser with some new clothes inside, a bookshelf, an oval-shaped dark brown rug in the middle of the room, some boxes stacked upon each other filled with his miscellaneous things, and a small drawer next to his bed. It didn't look much, but it was a little bit homey.

Like a zombie, Henry gets off the bed and slowly makes his way to the dresser and opens it up. He pulls out a simple black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, both still having the tags on them. He rips them off and proceeds to peel off his pajamas when he hears the door creak. With a gray undershirt being pulled over the back of his head, he turns slightly to try to see if his mother came back to check if he actually got up. But no, it was one of the kittens from the box he found in the attic a few nights ago.

After he had left the attic, the kittens had managed to get out of the attic once they woke up because he left the door ajar. The animals had then managed their way into the rest of the house. Henry will never forget his mother's scream when she almost stepped on the dark kitten, thinking it was a rat. Once she regained her composure, she questioned where they came from. Henry played dumb and said he didn't know. She wasn't a fan of animals and told him she planned on giving them away. The orange and white kittens were given away already, leaving the gray and black kitten.

The black kitten tumbles towards him and swats at his toes. He smiles before fully taking off the article of clothing and putting on the black shirt, finding it ironic his shirt matched the kitten's fur. Henry gently pushed the baby animal backwards to allow him some time to put on his pants. Lastly, he grabs the beanie Aunt Gwen made him and puts it over his head along with his inhaler.

"C'mon Blackie," Henry lifts up the kitten with his free hand and lets it rest on his other arm. It mews and purrs as he left his room and heads downstairs. He can hear dishes clatter once he reaches the bottom of the stairs. Setting down the kitten, he walks to the kitchen, the kitten bounding for him again. He notices the other kitten curled in a ball on the couch, but doesn't make a motion to wake it up.

Henry saw his mother standing in front of the stove, rapidly stirring something in a small pot. He sees toast, butter, milk, and a sugar cup on the table. He sits down and puts his inhaler down, waiting for his mother to finish. One of his elbows is plopped against the table with his hand holding up his chin. The kitten continued to swat at his toes, which caused him to giggle momentarily, but it grew uninterested and walks away.

Now with no distraction, the lack of sleep he had was causing his eyes to droop. He feels himself grow more relaxed and lets his eyes fully close. He again slips into the dream of the mysterious magical people, but much like his previous instances of the dream, he wakes up as soon as the clothed-figure fires the bright green light at him. Heart thumping, Henry tries to calm himself down before experiencing another asthma attack.

"Eat up, Henry."

Henry threw his head back up as he heard his mother's voice in surprise. His head slightly bobbled to the side, his droopy eyes blurred with sleep. He rubbed them as the woman placed a bowl full of steaming cream of wheat in front of him.

Hesitating for a few moments to regain his composure and push the repetitive dream out of his mind, Henry reached over the table for a milk bottle the milkman had left them this morning. He poured some of the milk into his bowl. Then he grabbed the sugar cup and proceeded to scoop out a lot of sugar and stir everything together. Once he was finished, he tasted his breakfast and adds more sugar. Despite being extremely tired, he ate ravenously. There was a slight throbbing pain in the corner of his mouth, but he learned to take pain. An ache wasn't about to prevent him from eating.

"Have you been sleeping?" His mother asked, noticing the darkening circles under his eyes.

"I've tried," he said before yawning quite loudly. "My body has been out of whack ever since we got here."

"Just give it a little more time. Soon, your body will get use to the new time." She let out a yawn herself. Afterwards, Kai had a sleepy smile on her face. "You're not the only one who's tired," she added.

"Maybe," he mumbled, taking another spoonful of the mushy food into his mouth, savoring the intensely sweet taste. "What do we have to do today?" Henry asked. For a moment, he imagined his mother going into a long, deep speech about them running all over London to do this or that.

"We're going to take you to the dentist."

The brief answer both delighted and disgusted him. If he had the energy, he would have spat out his food. "The dentist? Aww, c'mon Mom, I hate the dentist!"

"Henry, you need to have your teeth checked out. It's been six months since your last visit, so don't you dare run your mouth on me, got it?"

The young boy didn't answer. He continued to finish his breakfast, obvious discontent visible on his face. Henry didn't say a word until he put his bowl into the kitchen sink. "I'll be back," He said, making his way back up to the second story of the building straight to the room he slept in. As he began to put on the rest of his attire, he began to think perhaps this was karma he was receiving for saying he didn't know where the kittens came from.

He then went to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth and as he passed his room again, he noticed he didn't fix his bed. Not wanting to get into trouble, he went inside and organized the blankets so they were neat. He looks around the room. The maroon bookshelf was designed to be in the corner on the far side of the room and the sides were set to touch both walls. His mother had been hesitant to purchase it, but Henry insisted. He enjoyed reading a lot. There were already several books that occupied the shelf spaces: _James and the Giant Peach_ by Ronald Dahl, _Incident at Hawk's Hill_ by Allan W. Eckert, _The Indian in the Cupboard _by Lynne Reid Banks, and _Julie of the Wolves_ by Jean Craighead George. There was also another book that when compared to the children's novels, it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was entitled _Hogwarts, a History. _He hadn't had a chance to read it due to his mother dragging him all over the city, but thinking he might as well see what it was about, he strolled to the bookshelf and pulled down the book. He stood in front of the bookshelf, doing nothing but just staring at it, remembering when—

_No! I won't let him control me anymore!_

Henry clenches his fists, realizing what he came for and thinking he was an idiot for letting himself begin to remember about _him_. An angry sigh escapes his lungs. He felt all of the anger that built inside him was released in that breath, which made his resenting feelings settle down. He sits on his bed, examining the majestic castle on the cover. Henry's fingers trailed on the outline of it as he read the author's name: Garius Tomkink.

_Garius Tomkink? That's a pretty weird name._

He opens the book and scanned through the beginning pages to get to the actual heart of the story.

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is one of the most notable and finest schools in the UK for magical children at the age of eleven to seventeen, followed up by Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Durmstrang Institute. The boarding school was founded around 990 A.D. (though the actual date is unknown) by two witches and two wizards: Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazar Slytherin. Four houses were inspired by them, representing certain aspects of people. The Ravenclaw House represents wit, creativity, and wisdom. The Hufflepuff House values loyalty, fair play, honesty, and tolerance. The Gryffindor House values bravery, daring, nerve, and chivalry. Last but not least, the Slytherin House represents ambition, cleverness, cunning, and resourcefulness [along with pure-blood heritage]. Each year first-year students are sorted into one of these four houses (see pg. 12 on_ Traditions:The Sorting Hat_) where they will stay for the rest of their academic years. _

_The school is located in a large castle in Scotland. With many ancient spells and charms placed on the castle, it makes locating the school impossible for Muggles (i.e. non-magical folk). All they see are ruins while we magical folk see the majestic castle, as seen on the cover. One notable thing about the school is that Muggle technology goes haywire when brought on the grounds. The high level of magic is the cause. The powerful, electrical charge emitted from magic clashes with the electricity caused by Muggles' technology._

Henry stops reading not from being confused, but from being intrigued. This author had a wild imagination it seemed. He turned the page, wanting to read more about this world, but he hears his name being called down by his mother it was time to get ready. The boy wanted to continue to read, so he decides to bring along the book as he waited. He closes the book and rushes down the stairs, markedly making a lot of noise. He wanted to sit down in the car to continue reading.

His mother noticed this and asks, "What's got you in a hurry?"

"I just want to get it over with," he replies. Henry was about to go outside when his mother grabs his shoulder. For a moment, he thought he was in trouble until she held out his inhaler.

"You need to stop leaving this around."

"Okay, okay, I won't. I promise," he slips it into his pocket. "It won't happen again."

* * *

><p>The dentist's office was located on 13th Avenue, approximately eight miles away from the house they now lived in. It was relatively small, considering the waiting room could only fit twenty people. When Henry and Kai walked in, there were only six people waiting; four adults and two children.<p>

"I need to get the papers to sign, Henry. Go find a seat." His mother told him.

Henry nodded and scanned around where he should sit. The two little kids were throwing fits as their parents consulted to them to calm down, so he chose a seat in the far corner, mainly for the silence for him to read. He plops into the chair and pushed open the book with the finger he was using as a temporary bookmark. So far he read about the construction of the castle and what it contains, such as the classrooms, dormitories, dungeons, dining hall, and the Quidditch field. Personally, he wanted to learn more about this fake sport, but the book didn't provide enough information for him for his curiosity to be satisfied. He hoped the author had another book explaining about it, though he was content to learn the history of Hogwarts first.

_Legend has it that the founder of the Slytherin House— Salazar Slytherin—had created a secret room after he left due to disagreements he and the other founders had on whom should be allowed to attend Hogwarts. He believed Muggle-borns (i.e. magical children with Muggle parents) should not enroll because of their blood status. The other founders believed otherwise._

Henry thought, _that's a dumb reason to not allow kids inside._ The only sounds he could hear were a television playing a program about oral health and the swishing pen his mother used to write information in the papers. He continued:

_This "Chamber of Secrets" as it is called is said to inhabit a monster that would ensure chaos among young Muggle-born witches and wizards. It was also said that only a heir of Salazar Slytherin would have the ability to open it. Many have tried to locate this chamber and were unsuccessful. This lead people to believe the Chamber of Secrets was false and only a legend. However, in 1942, the chamber was opened. Throughout the 1942-1943 school years, children were being killed. An Acromantula (i.e. wizard-bred giant spider) was revealed to be the monster bringing terror and murdering the students. The student who housed this creature was expelled thanks to a fellow student telling the Headmaster at the time—Armando Dipper—about the whereabouts of the monster. This student was later given a special engraved award for his service, which is currently located at the school. Since then, the Chamber of Secrets has never been opened again._

Suddenly, a female's voice called, "Jones, Henry."

Henry looks up. He sees a woman standing in the doorway that leads to a hallway, obviously waiting for her next patient. Closing the book, Henry stands on his feet and glances at his mother, as if to say '_Do I go?_' Her hand motions urge him to follow the woman. Gulping, he walks towards her.

The woman has a bright, cheery smile once she sees him. "Hello there, I haven't seen you around her. Are you Henry?" Henry nods. "It's a pleasure to meet you Henry. I'm Dr. Granger," she holds her hand out for him to take. Henry takes her hand and they shake. "I'll be your dentist for today. You're not afraid, are you?"

Henry shakes his head. "No Ma'am, I'm not." _I just don't enjoy it._

"Well, let's get started. Follow me." Dr. Granger begins to walk down the hallway and he follows. The doors that lead to other dentist's rooms were mostly closed, but some were open, giving him a view of men, women, and children having their teeth worked on. Hearing the sound of drills caused his ears to hurt. "You do not sound British. Where did you come from?" The woman asks.

"I'm from California. United States."

"I thought you sounded American," she says. "Have you settled well?"

"Kinda."

"Well Henry, I hope we British folk have made your stay feel easy." She gives him another bright grin.

They passed about ten doors before she opens a door. "Step inside and take a seat." In the middle of the room was the chair he was supposed to sit in, but that wasn't what his attention was on. Across the room was a girl sitting in a chair next to a large window. She looked to be around his age. Henry didn't see her face since she was looking down at a book in her lap. Her bushy brown hair also surrounded the frame of her face, another factor of why he didn't see what she looked like. Yet she does eventually look up when Henry's dentist says, "Henry, this is my daughter. Say hello Hermione."

The girl tucks some of her wild hair behind her ear. Meekly, the girl dubbed Hermione said, "Hello." The way she presented herself and talked made Henry believe she was a timid person.

At this point, Henry was making himself comfortable in the chair. It was a difficult task due to him trying to figure out how he was going to hold the book. It was pretty big and its current position (in between his legs) was extremely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Dr. Granger must've read his mind. She said, "Would you like me to put your book on the counter for now?"

"Yes please."

Henry hands over the book and Dr. Granger sets it on the counter. He takes this time to take in his surroundings. The walls were simply painted white with several pictures hanging on the walls. They included Dr. Granger, a man, and a little girl whom he could only assume was her daughter Hermione. Curiously, he takes another look at the girl wanting to examine how much she changed. Henry's timing was off because his hazel eyes connected with her chocolate brown eyes. Embarrassment fills him, and he tears his gaze away. A few moments later his eyes dart back to her to see her attention advert to the book she had been reading. He could've sworn he saw her cheeks turn to a tint of pink, but Dr. Granger, who had been pulling out a pair of gloves, snaps on the left glove, which catches his attention. She turns around, now slipping on the second glove.

"Today I am just going to give you a check-up and a cleaning. Pretty simple, right?" He nods.

Dr. Granger pulled out a chair, sets it next to the dentist chair Henry was sitting in, and proceeds to begin checking on his teeth. "Okay, open wide and say ahhh."

He does what she told him to do. "Ahhhh."

The dentist picks up a dental explorer and lightly pricks at his teeth, starting at the far right side of his mouth. He feels the metal scrape against each individual tooth. Everything was fine until she touches the second to last tooth. It took all of his strength to avoid jerking his body.

"It appears you have a cavity, Henry." She stands up and walks back to the counter, opening a cabinet above the counter and pulling out an X-ray machine. "I will take some X-ray pictures to confirm if I'm correct and then I'll tell your mother there is a change in plans, all right?"

"Uh-huh." Henry said.

After prepping Henry and setting the machine, she takes some X-ray pictures of his mouth. Then, she puts the machine away and closed the cabinet. She turns to face the young boy again, saying, "Okay Henry, I will be back soon. Hermione will keep you company while I'm gone. See you in a bit." Dr. Granger gives her daughter a brief smile before heading out and closing the door.

Henry found the room suddenly becomes awkward. Not wanting to look into the stranger's eyes again, his eyes scurry around the room trying to find something to look at for the meantime.

"Excuse me," Hermione suddenly speaks. He really did not want to have another weird moment, but he knew it was rude to not respond. Henry's darting eyes finally settles on her. Once again hazel meets chocolate, but this time it didn't feel as uncomfortable as the last time. "Umm, I just finished my book…" She slowly closes the book she had as if emphasizing she was done with it. Henry couldn't help but feel amused at her actions. "And I noticed you had that book over there… I was hoping if I could… read it while my mum operates on you…." Hermione's gaze was on the floor the entire time.

"Sure, I guess."

She looks up, a small, shy smile creeping on her face. He noticed she had buck teeth, though didn't say anything about them. "Really? A-Are you sure?"

"It's not like I'm gonna read it while she's drilling into my mouth."

Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at his joke, but didn't want to risk their mutual relationship by doing so. Instead, she bounces up and practically skips over to pick up _Hogwarts, a History_. She appeared to be comfortable when it came to books but nervous around people.

The bushy-haired girl asks,"What's this about?" She picks it up and scans through the pages.

"It's about a magical school called Hogwarts," Henry said. He would've added _'It's not really a story_,_'_ but he figured she would find out herself.

He watches her sit down, open the book, and begin to read. It felt creepy to just watch her, so he looked down at his lap and twiddles with his fingers. A few minutes passed until the doorknob was twisted and Hermione's mother walked in.

"All right, Henry. Sorry to say, but you do have a cavity. Number 14 to be exact. So the new plan is that I am going to fill the cavity and then will proceed with the cleaning." As she said this, she raised his chair. Let's get started."

* * *

><p>"How do you feel?" Dr. Granger asked Henry. She lowers his chair so he can get up. He does; his legs feel wobbly from lying on his back for about an hour. His breath feels minty fresh, but he was more focused on the numb feeling in his upper lip.<p>

"I can't feel my lip," Henry said. He grabs his upper lip area and pinches hard, feeling nothing at all. It felt like his lip was entirely filled with lard. The feeling was strange.

Dr. Granger told him, "It should go away in a few hours. Now, you cannot eat or drink anything for two hours. If you do, the filling will rub away and the pain will return. C'mon, let's go bring you back to your Mum." She gently leads him to the door by touching his shoulder. When she opens the door, he takes a step out.

"Wait!" Henry turns around to see Dr. Granger's daughter come sprinting towards him. She hands out the book to him. "Here's your book. Thank you for letting me read it. It's really neat."

Henry felt shocked and angry at himself that he practically forgot the book he was so interested in, but also relief [and happiness?] that she was kind enough to return it before he left. She could've easily have kept it for herself, especially if she liked it. "You're welcome." They exchanged brief smiles before her mother reminded Henry that his mother was waiting for him. They walked down the hall. Before fully reaching the end of the hallway, Henry glanced over his shoulder for one last look at Hermione, but his face fell when he noticed the door to the room they occupied was closed. There was something about her that intrigued him, but he faced forward and walked through the door into the waiting room.

His mother was sitting with her legs crossed as she read a magazine. She peers above it upon hearing the noise of the opening door and smiled when her son was finally finished with his appointment. Setting down the magazine, she stands up. "How was it, Henry?"

"It was good." He simply said.

"You must be Misses Jones," Dr. Granger held out a hand and they shook.

"Oh no, it's just Miss."

"I apologize, Miss Jones. But anyways, everything went smoothly. Of course, he cannot eat or drink anything for two hours, but he was a very good kid." She smiles at him. He returns it.

Kai said, "Thank you very much."

"It's no problem Miss Jones. Hope to see you two in the next six months. Don't forget to floss." She reminded Henry before leaving. He watched his dentist walk back through the door he was in with another patient. Then, he turns toward his mother, who was grabbing her purse she set on her chair. They begin walking toward the exit.

Once they were outside, his mother tells him, "We're having a guest for afternoon tea."

"Who?"

"Hestia."

* * *

><p>Henry had been lying on the couch with the book on his lap, reading about all of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts when he heard knocking on the door. He could only assume it was Hestia who was outside—it was the only guest they were expecting.<p>

"Henry, will you get that for me?" Kai calls from the kitchen.

"Okay Mom." Henry folds the corner page of the book, closes it, and sets it on the sofa. He picks up the two young cats who have decided his chest was a good area for them to curl on and lays them next to his book. Jumping up, he walks quickly to the door and opens it. There stood a woman with dark hair and dark eyes. She wasn't as intimidating as Aunt Gwen, but the huge smile on her face she was wearing seemed to grown bigger upon seeing the ten-year-old, which made him a little bit jittery.

"Hi there Henry."

"Hi, umm, Aunt Hestia?"

"That's right, I'm your aunt. Now come here and give me a hug." She kneels to his height and without waiting for him, pulls him into a tight hug. Henry feels awkward as he wraps his arm around her. "I know with your strong arms you can hug tighter than that," he does and she responded by hugging him tighter. "That's more like it."

Henry breaks away. It felt weird hugging someone who was next to a stranger, despite knowing he met her way before he could remember stuff. "My mom's in the kitchen."

"All right."

He lets her inside, watching her tall figure walk into the kitchen before sitting back in his spot and trying to recreate the pose he was in before she arrived. Henry hears his mother and aunt's excited squeals. Amusedly, he imagines the women exchanging tight embraces while jumping up and down in excitement like school kids. He picks up _Hogwarts, a History_ and continues reading, but their voices carry through the hallway and all he can focus on is their conversation.

"How has your stay been so far?"

"I've been gone so long, Hestia. Everything is different. I missed it all, especially you and Gwenog. It feels like I have sisters again."

"Kai, we'll always be here for you. You're a part of the family, even if not by marriage anymore."

"I know, I know."

"Enough about me Hestia. What have you been up to? Did you meet any men?"

_Yuck! They're gonna talk about gross things._

His face twists into total disgust. He needed silence. He slams his book, puts it under his arm, and picks up the mewling kittens with his hands. They paw at the air as he walks up the stairs to the second floor. He sets them down, debating whether or not he should settle in his room or the attic. He was going to go read on his bed when he hears the attic door creak. Henry's attention goes to where the sound came from. The gray kitten slips through the space, followed by the back kitten.

"Where are you two off to?" Henry asked aloud. He decided to follow them and bring them back. Opening the door fully, he shuts it behind him and goes up the steps. Again, the stairs let out long, drawn-out creaks with each step he takes. "C'mon Blackie and Tiger." He knew he shouldn't have given them names, but he couldn't help it.

Blackie was trying to crawl into a box. "Don't do that, Blackie." Henry leans over and picks up the dark kitten. "Now where's your brother." He tries to scan around to spot the striped kitten, but he whirls around when he hears a loud thump behind him.

There was Tiger standing on top of a pile of fallen newspapers, meowing loudly as it hopped off. "Tiger, look at the mess you made!" Henry huffs and puts down Blackie. He gets down on his knees and reached for the nearest fallen paper. As he pulled it close, his eyes bulge out and his jaw might as well have hit the floor.

Below him, a picture in the newspaper was _moving._ Yes, indeed it was. His mind was not playing tricks. But it couldn't be real. Pictures cannot move! They're supposed to remain still!

Henry pulls it closer to examine the picture further. The picture consisted of an older man standing in front of a large audience, smiling and waving to the crowd. He could have pulled off as a jolly man if it weren't for his intimidating stare when he didn't blink.

_**Cornelius Fudge for Minister?**_

_Today during a conference meeting, Cornelius Fudge has announced he will be running for the Minister of Magic position in the 1990 election. This makes him the third man to announce he is in the race along with Bartemius Crouch, and the public favorite, Albus Dumbledore (though has claimed he is not running for Minister.) "Albus Dumbledore may have more popularity, but I intend to create change," was the words of Cornelius Fudge himself. If Dumbledore changes his mind, he has no chance of winning._

Henry sets the newspaper to the side and picks up the next one. Inside his mind he kept on repeating, _this isn't happening. This isn't happening. It's all a dream._ But the more newspapers he was picking up, the dream was either becoming more realistic or was furthering the theory.

_Wait... Albus Dumbledore? _

The name sounded familiar. It only took a minute for his brain to make the connections. Henry pulls up his book he had set to the side and turned it to the page he marked earlier. The author had listed all of the Headmasters and Headmistresses and the dates they have served. His pointer finger scans through the list to land on a single name at the very bottom of the page.

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – Headmaster (1956 – present day)_

Henry couldn't believe it. This had to be a joke. There was no way this Dumbledore person could be alive. There wasn't a way Hogwarts could be real. There is no possible way witches and wizards could be real.

_There's no way._

Yet, the evidence was blatantly moving in front of him.

* * *

><p>Henry sat in the same position for hours reading through the articles, staring in amazement at the moving figures. Magic was the only possible way these figures could stir. His mind accepted magic was real. Sure, children are supposed to believe magic was always real, but he let go of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny a long time ago. But now, the faith had been revived. This amazing world was real. He felt like he opened a door to a whole new world full of possibilities.<p>

The ten-year-old folds up the newspaper neatly and sets it in a pile he composed of all the articles he read. The dates were completely out of order. Some ranged from only a few years ago to fifty and beyond that! The older articles ink had begun to fade, but the pictures remained moving. He couldn't let go the fact these figures could shift. It was astonishing!

The newspapers that have fallen due to Tiger had been picked up. The remaining ones were in large stacks, yet this unfazed him. He wanted to continue to read these articles. As he stands up (his body noticeably cracking) he takes down the newspaper at the very top of the stack. When he looks at the front picture, he felt himself freeze. On the cover were a man, a woman, and a baby. The man had messy raven hair, hazel eyes, and wore glasses. The woman had shoulder-length auburn hair and bright yet soft emerald green eyes. Finally, the baby had the same hair as who he thought was its father and had the woman's eyes.

_**Baby Vanquishes He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!**_

_On the night of October 31st, Harry Potter, precisely aged 15 months, has defeated You-Know-Who for once and for all! That night, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had entered the Potter's home and murdered Lily and James Potter by using the killing curse, but for unknown reasons, could not do the same to Harry Potter. No one knows how this strange phenomenon occurred and cannot explain how this happened, but all of UK is in celebration as Death Eaters go into hiding. Harry Potter will forever be known as The-Boy-Who-Lived!_

Henry stares at the picture of the family. This must have been a family photo they taken. The man and woman were grinning as the woman held the little baby known as Harry Potter, blinking as they stood. He looked into their eyes, which were full of joy, but there was something else he couldn't detect. Was it sorrow? Indeed they looked like a happy family, but they had what looked like grief also. He brings his hand to trace over the picture, which brings flashes of the reoccurring dream. The man's eyes— his hair. The women's eyes—her hair— no, it couldn't be. This was a coincidence. Yet as his mind remembers the dream, their faces are intertwined into the memory.

The man— James Potter—is sitting on a sofa in front of him and creating rainbow colors out of his wand and then scoops him into his arms. He's facing the intruding figure in the color battle until he's struck down.

The woman— Lily Potter— held him as she runs up the stairs and places him in the crib. Her face is tear-streaked while trying to reassure him everything will be fine. She bravely faces the figure that attacked James until she's struck with the green light too.

Heart racing, Henry feels he cannot breathe. There's a truck on top of him—another asthma attack. Wheezing, he drops the newspaper to dig into his pockets for his inhaler. He thrusts it into his mouth and presses down several times. As soon as he calms down, he stoops down and picks up the newspaper. The family was unfazed he dropped them on the floor and continued grinning and blinking.

The article says the baby was 15 months old. Calculating in his mind, twelve months made him at least a year old. Subtract three months from October… Harry Potter's birthday was in July.

_...Precisely 15 months from October 31st..._

July 31st.

Just like Henry.

_Is it—is it possible? Are these people really my family?_

He badly wants to say no. He wants to deny the possibility. But the dream – the dream had to have been the night the Potters were attacked. How could he have the vision if this occurred here in Britain when he was living in America? Nothing was making any sense!

If he was going to find out anything, he had to learn more about this Harry Potter. But his stomach twisted into knots at this thought. Oh no, he was thrilled at the possibility of having a brother, but the paper said Harry's parents were killed… if he was indeed his brother, then that meant his parents—_their_ parents—were gone.

_I'm too late_, he thought sadly, but he quickly dismissed the feelings and replaced it with determination. _Even if I never met them, I'm gaining a brother! I can't jump to conclusions though… but even if I am a part of their family, why did they give me up and keep him?_

* * *

><p>Henry knew his mother was a bit iffy when it came to things organized. She liked having things clean and well-kept, so all of their important papers were currently residing in her room. Sure, they were kept in boxes, but he knew there was no way she was going to keep them in the dirty attic.<p>

He sets the newspaper about the Potters down. Opening a box, he saw a folder entitled "Henry's Important Stuff." He pulls out the folder and begins to scan through the huge pile. Inside were tons of pictures, school awards, and a bunch of other stuff that didn't interest him. Continuing on, he found his adoption certificate.

_Henry Alan Jones_

_Born 7-31-1980_

_Sex: Male_

_Mother: Kai Jones_

_Father: Ares Jones_

He stops reading when he reads his adoptive father's name. Henry wants to rip off his name and burn it, but he knew his mother would be angry—not that he ripped off his name, but the fact he ripped his birth certificate. Putting his conflicting thoughts aside, he tried to think. This wasn't his original birth certificate. If his parent's last names were Jones, then he couldn't have possibly had the same last name as them before they changed his name. He placed the certificate back in the folder and continues searching through the box. In the corner he saw a small wrist band. Henry pulls it out, reading what was printed on the side, the ink faded.

_Henry Alan Carter_

_My last name was Carter._

Stomach sinking in, he turns the wrist band around to try to see if there was anything else that could hint he was related to the Potters. On the other side, _Samuelson's Mercy Hospital _was printed. Other than that, there was nothing to indicate he was a Potter. The hope for the possibility that these people were his birth family dwindles.

_No, I can't give up! My dream means something. It has to._

Henry takes another glance at the newspaper and focuses on the baby. Harry Potter is looking towards his direction and smiling. Blinking, he looks through the folder once more. He pulls out baby pictures of him ranging from a few months old up until Christmas pictures of him opening presents last year, although he was more interested in his baby photos. Inspecting each individual photo, he selects a picture of him in a small sailor suit when he was a year old. He sets his unmoving picture next to the newspaper to compare the babies. There were major differences; their hair being two entirely different colors; his eyes were hazel while Harry's were green; the obvious slight age difference in between the boys; and Henry's beauty mark, but their facial structures were identical. In fact, if they were to darken Henry's hair, he would look exactly like Harry.

In Henry's heart, this was enough evidence.

_I have a brother._

Logically, he knew people would not believe him. They would believe it was just a simple fantasy. He had to find solid evidence to prove they were related. After all, he wouldn't have believed witches and wizards were real if it weren't for the newspapers. But what would prove it? Henry had been trying to figure out for the past few days.

The first thing he needed to do was find out Harry's past. Where was he born? Where was he living now? Surely there had to be some sort of biography of him if he was famous for defeating a wizard so dark people didn't even have the bravery to _type_ his name after he was killed. Henry needed outside help, and he knew where he would get it.

* * *

><p><em>August 17th, 1990<em>

"Hi Aunt Gwen. Hi Aunt Hestia," Henry greets his aunts when he opened the door. Kai had arranged for them to have dinner while they were all together.

"Hello there, Sport." Gwenog tousles his reddish-brown hair. When she was done, he tries to straighten out his hair, but it was already ruined even before she touched it. "How've you been?" She asked as she and her older sister were walking into the old home.

Henry replies, "Good."

"It smells lovely in here," Hestia said.

"Mom's in the kitchen," he told them. They were going to enter the kitchen, but Henry figured he should address the issue to the younger aunt. "Umm, Aunt Gwen, can I ask you something?"

Gwenog turns around, a small smile visible on her lips. "Anything," she told him. He peers behind her to see Hestia enter the kitchen. "What would you like to ask?"

"Well…" Henry pulls out the article about the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name. He sees her eyes widen upon seeing the moving figures. He wondered if it was shock that they were moving, or shock that he knew what was going on. "There's this person called Harry Potter and I want to know more about him. I was hoping if you could bring me some stuff about him to read."

"Why would you ask me?"

Henry pulls out another article. This one was about the victory of an all-female Quidditch team called the Holyhead Harpies. The women on the cover were sitting on brooms with a woman in the middle holding a trophy. Next to her sat Gwenog. There was no denying it.

"Because I know you're a witch," Henry simply says, smiling knowingly.

"Henry Alan Jones!" Henry's taken aback by his mother suddenly yelling at him. She starts coming towards him, angrily staring him down. "Did you just call Gwenog a witch? You don't call people witches, Henry! It's impolite! Apologize—!"

"Woah, whoa, calm down Kai." Gwenog says. She steps up to Henry and puts a protective arm around his shoulders. "It's not what you think. He's not using it as an insult."

Henry nodded furiously. "It's 'cause she really is a witch, look!" He rushed to his mom, pointing blatantly at the Gwenog in the picture. "See! She's riding on a broom. They play a game called Quidditch where they ride on brooms all over this large field and—!"

"Slow down Henry, you're going to have a heart attack." Hestia jokes. She then wonders out loud, "How did you find all this out? I thought you said you didn't tell him anything of the Wizarding World, Kai."

Kai shakes her head. "It's because I didn't."

"There were a bunch of newspapers in the attic. I just read them." Henry shrugs, and then furrowed his brows as Hestia's words sunk in. "But Mom, how come you didn't tell me this stuff?"

Kai sighs, and kneels down to his height. "The reason I didn't tell you is because I am a Muggle… do you know what a Muggle is?" Henry nods. "Oh, okay. Well anyways, Muggles aren't supposed to know magic and if they do, then they cannot tell anyone else. That goes for you too, Mister."

Henry asked, "Why not?"

"It's just the way things are."

"…Then how do you know?"

His mother takes quick glances at his aunts before focusing back on him. "It's because I married into a family of witches and wizards. Both of your aunts are witches."

"You too, Aunt Hestia?" He asks.

Hestia smiles and says, "Yes I am. Now c'mon guys, I'm starving."

As the three women and boy begin to walk into the kitchen, Henry tugged on Gwenog's sleeve again. "Can you please help me out about finding more out about Harry Potter?"

"I would love to Henry, but I have a lot of Quidditch practices to attend to. I don't have a lot of time to go to libraries, but I'm sure Hestia would love to."

"I would love to what?" Hestia piped up from the kitchen. "I heard my name."

As they began to sit at the table, Henry explains to her about how he wanted to find out more about Harry Potter. He just said he was interested in learning more about him.

"Hmm. Well Henry, I'll try my best to get you something about him. I knew his parents, actually. They were really great people."

Henry could barely contain the excitement that was building inside of him. This was way better than any book or magazine! "How did you know them?"

"To tell you the truth," Hestia looks to both sides before leaning close to him. "I was a part of a secret organization called the_ Order of the Phoenix_. Our job was to protect Muggle-borns from You-Know-Why and try to stop him. I didn't know them personally, but I did talk to them a few times and they were a nice couple. It's such a tragedy what happened to their other son," she mutters lowly the last part, but Henry picked it up.

_Other son?_

"What other son?"

Hestia realized her mistake, but there was no turning back. "They had twins; both boys. Their other son died the morning after they were born. But I've always thought there was something not right that happened that night... James and Lily said they were healthy babies," Hestia shakes her head. "There are always stories about how babies are switched on accident in Muggle hospitals, but I'm sure that's just wishful thinking."

Henry knew this might be hard for her to remember, but he asked, "What was his name?"

"Oh Merlin, this happened nine years ago…. What was his name? Sorry Henry, but I cannot remember. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Henry said. He swallows the lump in his throat. "Maybe there was something about him in a biography about Harry."

"Perhaps, but let's talk about something else. Thinking about babies who passed on is troubling in itself. So tell me Henry, before Gwenog beats me to it, do you like Quidditch?"

* * *

><p>Later that night, Henry lied in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. Next to him curled up was Tiger; Aunt Hestia had decided on taking the black kitten as a pet. He pets the kitten, smiling as he felt the vibration of the purr. It took some convincing (okay, begging), but Kai said he could have it just as long as he took care of it.<p>

Right now, he was trying to figure out how he could be related to Lily, James, and Harry Potter.

_Maybe I was switched as a baby with another kid, _he thought. _That would explain me having Carter as a different name. That'd also mean we were born in the same hospital. _He remembers about the name of the hospital on the wristband. _I hope I can get Mom to take me so we can try to get a list of the babies who were born that night. Still… how am I going to prove that we are blood-related? They'll think it's just a huge coincidence._

Henry turns to rest on the side of his body. He glances up at the moon shining through his window. His eyes brighten up visibly as he gained an idea.

_There has to be some sort of spell that can say I am his brother! I can't ask Aunt Hestia or Gwen to do a spell or potion or something like that yet. I need more proof or they'll think I'm loony. _

"I hope I'm not to think this," he whispers before falling asleep, the moon shining on his face.


	5. Proposals

_September 8th, 1990_

_Cold wind is whirling around Henry. It nips at his exposed face, causing goose bumps to form all over his skin. His eyes open, the dilated pupils turning side to side. It's dark. A roaring engine is all he can hear. Most of his peripheral vision was surrounded by a light blue blanket. The center, however, was filled by the night sky. _

_Stars. Beautiful, glowing stars._

_Far away he can see the small orbs of light through milky fog, twinkling teasingly at him to try to reach out to them. Henry feels his hands try to move to touch them, but his arms are strapped down to something. As another resort, he tries to move his head, but cannot. So he settles by glancing downwards, straining to see in the dark. The blue blanket is wrapped around his body tightly, keeping him in a cocoon trap. It really wasn't a complaint; the blanket was soft against his cheeks. But it was a nuisance that he couldn't control the body. _

_Light-headed—that was what he was feeling. As if gravity around him became loose. Was he up in the air? That's what he felt like. If he was though, he felt oddly calm. Not like when he was in the plane, so maybe he wasn't. Curiously, Henry tries to move again to get a look, only to remember he was trapped by the blanket. His eyebrows knit in annoyance. This wouldn't be as bad if his hearing wasn't consumed by a motorcycle engine._

_Not many motorcycles were heard from where he lived. But he could recognize the sound from a mile away when they did. The drawn out "vroom" sound the motor created as the biker sped down the street at night, the sound becoming as loud as thunder when it was close. Henry found them rather irritating and he certainly didn't feel much different now. He thinks he might be here for a while, so he tries to drown out the noise and focus ahead of him._

_Soon, the fog fades away. Traces of it are still present, but the sky is clearer to see. Henry realizes he is indeed in the air. In a motorcycle. A _flying _motorcycle._

_This was new._

_He knows he should be freaking out over the fact he was air-borne, along with being able to feel the cold wind slap against his face and ruffle through his hair. Yet he can't. Maybe it's the fact that he's strapped to something that manages to calm him—or the thought in the back of his mind that this was just a dream. Whatever it was, he was enjoying the sight. _

_Slowly, eyelids close halfway, but shot back open. What the—? The action was repeated with the same result. Was this figure starting to fall asleep? This reminded him of how he used to be when he was younger, trying to stay awake when he was tired. Henry expects the figure to do what he always ended up doing—fall asleep._

_What happened next causes him to wake up from any trace of sleepiness. Henry feels the body tense up when a hand hovers over his face. The hand from what he could see was big enough to cast a shadow to cover his face and block out his vision. If the figure wanted to, it probably could have crushed his skull with ease. What was this figure doing? His question was answered when the thick fingers delicately picked up part of the blanket and pulled it over to protect his face from the wind._

_Who was this person? His curiosity to see this person with large hands grew, but knew he could never see who it was if his face was covered. On top of that, his theory from earlier was proven to be correct. The figure couldn't handle staying awake any longer. It relaxed when he could no longer feel the cold wind. The roaring engine noise fades away into nothingness. It's dark yet again. Empty space. _

_Henry wonders briefly if the dream of the Potters being attacked was replaying, but then loud knocking that echoed throughout the vast space of unconsciousness causes his eyes to widen in surprise. A shrill voice says words he doesn't understand from outside. Strange. This voice was… cold. No warmth at all, as if the figure was speaking to an animal. Even then Henry had never heard of someone talking down to an animal like this (if you didn't count the violent crow in Tahoe). _

_Next, the figure's eyes he's seeing through uses arms to push its body up, reaches to the right, and puts on a pair of glasses. Personally, his vision was fine before, so the glasses did not enhance nor diminish his eyesight. He sees the outlines of shelves and what appears to be a mass of blankets his body is entangled in. Then, a pale hand goes up to touch a string from above, only to pull it down. Bright light from a light bulb above streams into the space encasing the darkness. Momentarily blinded, his eyes adjust to the brightness. _

_Henry has never seen this place before. He—or this figure he was seeing through technically—was in what appeared to be a small cupboard with painted white walls somewhat stained with dirt. Small miscellaneous things were scattered on some shelves, but the majority of the space was empty. Why was he sleeping in a cupboard? That was weird._

_The young boy wonders if he had some control of the body. He tries to move a hand in front of his face, but there's no luck._

_Now the body is pushing the blankets off, crawling out of the cupboard and shuts the door with the back of its foot. Henry feels the body stand up in a hallway. The head turns to the left, and he noted there was a door and stairs a few feet from him. Then he turns to face the other side of the hallway, walk a few feet to stand in front of a glass door, pull it open, and walk into the next room. A kitchen. There standing in front of a stove was a woman with blond hair and a very long neck (Henry was reminded of a giraffe). Her attention goes to him and he mentally—was it the body also?—winced at her cold eyes. She points to some clothes folded on a chair pointed outwards to face their direction. _

_The body rushed to the chair to pick up what was set for him. He picks up a shirt and unfolds it; the shirt practically reached below his knees. The process is repeated with a pair of extremely baggy pants._

_Henry realizes there was someone else in the room. A figure sat at the table, holding up a newspaper and successfully concealing its face. However, he does get a look of the figure. The newspaper was set down; sitting at the table was a fat man to put it bluntly with a bushy moustache (Henry's reminded of a walrus). His beady eyes are full of loathsome; the man snaps at him, which Henry could only assume what he said was "Hurry up boy!"_

_That was what happened next. The body rushes through the kitchen, the hallway, and up the stairs while clinging to the over-sized clothes. He nearly runs into another boy before jerking backwards to avoid that. He was an almost exact copy of the man downstairs; he was round and chubby-faced, but the difference was he had blonde hair on top of his head like the lady from downstairs. He must've been their child. Right now his face was twisted into a snarl, eyes full of hatred just like his parents. Before Henry knew it, the body collides into the wall face first. He sprawls to the ground, face stinging with pain. The glasses have fallen off, the middle snapped in half—_

"Henry, wake up. It's time to go to school!"

Hazel eyes snap open. Henry expects to see his body to be on the ground, trying to regain his footing but no. He was staring up at the ceiling; cracks indented into the old wood from the years of damage from neglect mocked him, twisted into crooked grins. Henry found this rather unsettling, but kept silent. He sits up, eyes glancing around the room. Everything was intact. There was no sign to indicate of the giraffe lady, the hippo man, or even the kid with their worst qualities fused together. Instead, his mother was standing in the doorway, an expectant look upon her face for him to be getting up. He was in his room.

"Okay," was his groggy reply. He receives a satisfied nod from her before she left, leaving him alone. Or closer to being alone. He brings up his hand to rub his eyes, and caught sight of his pet cat.

"Morning Tiger," he mumbles as he saw the sleeping bundle of fur stir next to him. Tiger mewls sleepily as it arches its back. Then it makes its way towards him and nudges into his stomach, purring affectionately. Henry scratches behind its ears, again earning more purrs. Over the past few weeks the kitten had grown considerably big, mainly the tail. It had become at least twice the size it had been since he found it and its siblings in the attic. Henry runs a hand down its back till he reached the tail. Oh god, was it possible that it grew even bigger in the night? The tail had to have been a good six inches. "What have you been eating Tiger, badgers and owls?"

Tiger meows, licking Henry's hand. Then it walks away from him and jumps off the bed, reminding him of what his mother told him to do.

Instead, he lazily lies back down. His mind replays the two intercepting dreams. Well, the first one certainly felt like a dream. The second one though… that felt _extremely_ real. Like he was actually there. He's been having more of the reoccurring dreams every now and then at a certain point, and couldn't help but feel he was seeing them through Harry's eyes. If he did the night when Voldemort attacked their family, then how could he deny the possibility? At the same time, he wasn't too sure. But if they were indeed real, who were those people? Where did Harry live? Heck, even why did he sleep in a closet?

But if there was one thing he was certain, his face felt bruised.

* * *

><p>"Do you have your lunch?"<p>

"Yeah."

"How about your inhaler?"

"It's in my backpack, Mom."

"Are you sure?"

"Mom, I'm ninety-nine percent sure," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"You better check," she said as she straightened out his white polo shirt, kneeling to his height. He huffs in annoyance as he slings his red backpack to the side, zips open the smallest pouch, and pulls out the inhaler.

"See? I told you," Henry says, letting it slip through his fingers and back into the pouch. He zips it up before slinging it back around.

"Just checking. You can't be too careful. I don't want you to use a school inhaler—who knows what other kids have put in their mouths," she cups his cheeks and plants a kiss on his forehead. Henry pulls away disgustedly.

"Eww, not in front of people! Yuck!" He wipes at the spot she kissed, praying that any lipstick stains she might have left were erased. He hopes nobody noticed what she did.

She chuckles at his motions, and he returns it by sticking out his tongue. Just then, the first morning bell ringed, warning the incoming students that classes would begin in five minutes. The remaining students who arrived later than others start to go inside.

"I got to get to class."

"Okay, okay. Your room number 16. Have a good day, and be nice to other kids."

"I will," Henry said. He walked up the path that lead to the entrance and quickly shuffled up the stairs, trying to avoid bumping into the other children who were also trying to enter. When he entered the school, he's greeted by the sight of children ranging from six years old to twelve. Many excited voices buzzed around him. He could hear different conversations going on.

"Look at my new book bag—"

"—did you see Liam? His haircut looks wicked—"

"—ugh, we have Viola! I thought she was moving."

"Me too."

Henry gulped, nervous in being in a crowd full of strangers alone, but trudged forward, passing the principal's and nurse's offices. He eyed the numbers indented on each door he passed. All the doors were wide open with students bustling inside each room. When he found his classroom, he enters quite timidly, quite a contrast when compared to the other kids. Then again, most of them have lived here most of their lives and know each other. His head hangs down and he shuffles to the back. Henry just wanted to blend in with the crowd like he did in his other school, but his "American accent" as it would be put here would made it very, very difficult.

A few seconds later, the school bell rings. A woman who was sitting at the front desk stands up, smiling as she said, "Okay children, settle down. Go on and take a seat where you would like. These will be your permanent seats, unless your behavior proves otherwise. Then I will have to prepare a seating chart."

The others responded by rushing to their preferred seats and sat in them, many trying to be next to their friends. The ones who didn't know anyone else just sat in a nearby desk. Henry chose a seat in the back to avoid attention drawn to him. The young boy sets his backpack down and plopped his elbows up, holding his head up as he listened to the teacher.

"I would like to welcome everyone for another year. My name is Miss Brown. Before anything else, I will start attendance," she picks up a sheet of paper and begins to call out students listed in the class. "Benson, Joseph?"

"Here."

"Bess, Kayla?"

"Present."

Miss Brown continued calling out names. Henry waits till she called out his, ignoring the rest. He didn't plan on getting close to anyone and didn't feel the need to remember everyone else's name.

"Jones, Henry."

"Here," Henry said.

At his voice, some of the students sitting near him eyed him curiously. They never seen this kid before, and the way he spoke was different, even if it was just one word. But they ignored him, and would most likely have continued doing so for the rest of the day if it weren't for what their teacher said next.

When she finished, she set the paper down. "Students, before I go over the rules and what we will be covering for the rest of the year, I want you all to make Henry feel welcomed. He's from America," Miss Brown smiled, looking at Henry in the eye as she talked. She was quite excited to have this new student from the U.S. The woman hoped that she was making him feel comfortable, considering how reluctant he was acting earlier. "How's London, Henry?"

Classmates now were turning towards him, their interest peeking once more. Blood rushed to his face at all of the attention the teacher was bringing onto him. Oh how he just wanted to shrink into his seat. But he figured not saying anything would make him look stupid.

"It's okay." He meant to shrug it off, but the words came out resembling a squeak.

Some of the students giggled upon hearing him. A few of them began to whisper amongst themselves. Henry scowled, his face still burning with embarrassment.

"Settle down students. We should continue on. We're running a little late…."

Henry drones out the rest of her lecture, feeling irritated at her actions even if they were pure. So much for keeping a low profile. The ten-year-old leaned back into his seat, hoping he would not have to say anything for the rest of the day—or the year.

* * *

><p>Recess came about an hour later. The students rushed out excitedly, relief washing all over them when they thought Miss Brown would never stop talking. Henry felt the same, but walked slower. He decides to use the restroom facilities before anything else. Once he was finished and washed his hands, he left the boy's bathroom. He didn't feel like playing on the jungle gym, so he settled with swinging on a swing nearby. The boy scanned around the blacktop area, watching others play games including jump rope and hopscotch. Henry did so for about five minutes, but grew bored and jumped off. The ten-year-old decided to get a drink of water. The trip took some time, considering he had no idea where to find it and grew slightly irritated.<p>

When he found the water fountain that was placed by another boy's bathroom on the other side of the playground, he pressed a button, leaned over, and drank. Henry was at peace, his mood now improved. Henry stood up and wiped his lips with the base of his knuckles. He was going to leave, but heard voices carry through the hallway. The tones sounded vicious. His curiosity got the better of him, so he tiptoed closer until he was able to hear. The further he traveled he was able to decipher the conversation. Henry stood at the end of the wall that intersected with another hallway.

"—and to think that someone who's mum and dad are dentists have a daughter that's part beaver."

"I think I know why she reads so many books. It's because she chops down trees with those teeth and makes her own paper with 'em." Another voice taunted.

"That and cracking nuts," a girl piped up.

The voices all laughed gleefully.

Henry's brows furrowed. Bullies. There had to be at least four kids from what he could tell. He's reminded of how Derek used to bully him as well as others. But at least there was only one. There were _four_ of them picking on one. That was not fair at all!

Before he knew it, he turned the corner to face the bullies. Instead of seeing the group crowd around the girl he crashed into a boy, who was most likely leading the group away. Henry stood his ground while the kid became perplexed as he stumbled backwards. Then, he shook it off to glare at Henry.

"Watch where you're going," he snarled. The boy then pushed Henry aside, allowing him and the others to continue to stride together. Henry became focused on staring at the boy, glaring fiercely. He's reminded of the dream with the overweight child crashing into him.

He felt himself grow angry. One of the girls in the group managed to break his trance by turning around and smugly smiled. She didn't look in his direction, but down the hallway. "We'll see you later, _Hermione_," she practically spat out the name. The girl then turned back to her group of friends. They talked animatedly, misleading their previous actions.

_Wait, Hermione?_

Henry turns his head to the other direction. Indeed, the bushy-haired brunette he met weeks ago was kneeling down, scrambling to pick up papers that were scattered all over the ground. He glanced downwards. A few sheets of papers were a few feet away from him. Instinctively, he ambles towards them, knelt down, and proceeded to help her. She was too busy to notice him at first until he spoke.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly.

Hermione, tightening her jaw, looks up. Her first instinct is to try to bite her tongue back in case it was another kid looking to pick on her. She blinks upon meeting the hazel orbs of the American boy she met in her mother's office last month. But she notices no hostility in his voice or actions—it appeared he was actually helping her. Hermione remembers their first encounter, and cannot bring herself to ignore his chivalry. Her jaw loosens as she shakes her head up and down.

"Yes," she managed to say before continuing to pick them up. The young girl didn't mean to wave him off like this, but she had to pick up the mess.

Henry's silent for awhile as he continues to assist her, wobbling around on his knees. He would've continued being quiet, but on the eight or so paper he picked up he looks at the paper. It appeared to be a page in some sort of book. The side of the papers appeared to be shredded.

"What happened?" Henry questions warily.

By now, all the pieces of paper were picked up. She stands up, and he follows. He watched her try to straighten out the uneven stack that was in her hands. Hermione doesn't say anything, but eventually says, "I was reading my book when those blokes," Henry raised his brow at 'blokes', "took my book and ripped pages out."

"Reading? Here?" Henry glanced around the hallway. Indeed it was empty with only them occupying. He notices further away there was an exit. This must have just been an emergency pathway. "Kind of…empty, don't ya think?"

Hermione bites her lip. She's not sure if she should confide in this stranger—if he's considered that in spite of them meeting before, that is. It was only a matter of time before he turned on her, much like all the other students at the school. But still, it felt nice to talk to someone without being made fun of. She couldn't entirely walk away…yet.

"It's quiet," she replied in the same manner. Hermione turns away and picked up what remained of the book—most pages were intact, but quite a bit of it were missing. They've never gone this far in tormenting her… they'd normally just toss whatever she was reading around and drop it when they lost interest. She supposed she would have to be extra careful with any book she'll bring for now. "And the library isn't open until next week until Mister Jordan returns. He doesn't allow loud students like them to enter."

"Oh. I don't like to read with noise either. It makes it hard to focus." When she stands back up, he hands over the papers he gathered, saying, "I'm sorry about your book."

"It's not your fault."

They stand around for a minute. Sighing, Hermione started walking down the hallway. Henry trailed behind her. He frowns when she tossed what used to be a book away in a trashcan.

"I can always ask Mum or Dad for another copy," she tells him when she noticed his expression.

Henry asked, "Why don't you tell a teacher what they did?"

"I have before, but when they get in trouble they always get worse the next time. It's better this way," she shrugs like it wasn't a big deal. Henry sympathized for her, knowing how it felt to be bullied. He really wanted to get back at them, but didn't know what to do. Instead, he continued to be friendly with her.

"Don't you have friends to stand up to them?"

Hermione shook her head sideways.

"Umm," Henry found himself saying and couldn't stop, "I can, err, always lend you that book I brought to your mom's dentist place… when the library opens, that is. If you want."

She shrugged, looking down with a sad smile. Henry frowned again. Here he was, offering the girl to read the book she liked so much and possibly companionship, but she was acting like he didn't mean his words. She was a different person than he remembered.

He didn't question her further due to the school bell ringing. The ten-year-old heard her say "Thank you for helping" before walking away briskly; she left him puzzled as well as makes him more intrigued. He groans and ran a hand through his hair. Girls were confusing.

"Now I think I know how Bobby felt," he mumbled, following the direction he came through.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed uneventful. It mostly consisted of the teacher going through some more rules, expectations, and anything in between, which ended by the time for their first recess. Then, they all began on working on two small tests for mathematics and English so she could know where they were academically. He remembered hearing some of the students grumble "This is only the first day and she's making us work." Henry didn't mind. The problems were relatively easy to solve.<p>

The first day of school ended at two o'clock. Henry responded much like the other students this time by rushing out. As he headed down the hallway, he glanced around the student body in an attempt to look for Hermione, but couldn't find her. He did try searching for her after lunch. But it appeared Hermione had either vanished, or was avoiding him. He shakes his head; why was he so interested in her? She was just some British girl he spoke to twice.

_She's the only person you remotely know here_, he heard his conscious say. Henry didn't feel like having another argument with himself, so he doesn't respond.

He scans through the crowd of the strangers, trying to pinpoint his mother. Kai is standing in front of their vehicle, also trying to find him. Henry rushes to her side, smiling despite himself.

"Hi Mom."

"How was your day?" Kai asked, already starting to go into the car. Henry walked around the car and did the same in the passenger's seat. He tossed his backpack into the backseat, not noticing it landed next to a book.

He said, "It was all right." He noticed her snap on her seatbelt, and moved his arm backwards to do the same.

"Wait, before you put that on, Hestia brought you a book earlier. She found it in a bookstore while she went shopping. It's in the backseat. I thought I'd bring it for you sine you're such a little bookworm."

Henry became excited. "Thanks Mom," he motions to turn around, but huffily adds, "I'm not a bookworm." He twisted his body to the right to look for what she brought. He sees a rather thick-looking book set on the seat behind the driver's side. He leans over with an outstretched arm, picks it up, and plops back in the seat normally. Before focusing on the book, he snaps on his seatbelt.

As the car started to move, the woman asked, "Did you make any friends?"

Henry paused. _What am I supposed to say?_ '_I didn't talk to anyone but tried to with a girl who ignored me for the rest of the day.' That sounds really lame and pathetic. Don't want her to be disappointed…._

"Yeah, I did."

His mother exclaimed, "Great! What are their names?"

He gulped. "Actually, it's just one. A girl named Hermione. Her mom's the dentist I went to last month. Y'know, the girl I told you about who was reading my book. We…talked during recess and ate lunch together. She's not in my class though." Henry cursed himself for gibbering so fast.

Kai arched an eyebrow. This was something entirely new. Henry never spoke like this about someone. Perhaps he was starting to open up like the therapist told her. She did have to admit this was rather faster than she expected, but that was good, right? The woman didn't want to push Henry too far too fast. "I'm proud of you. Go on and read that book. You must be dying to read it."

"Uh-huh." Henry immediately scanned around for a title. When he found no words on the front, he flipped it to its side. The book was entitled _Modern Magical History _on the spine. He flipped it over again to examine the front side. The cover was designed with a smaller square box resembling a shelf. On the small shelf were different shades of brown squares shaped into books. It wasn't as heavy as _Hogwarts, a History_ but was decent-sized.

"Aunt Hestia must really trust me to give me this kind of stuff," Henry said. He did find it weird how willing she was supplying him on information he asked. What if he accidentally slipped out information? What would they do to them?

"Because she knows it by any chance your little mouth blabs anything out, people will think you have an active imagination," Kai said with a smile. "But don't show any of those newspapers to your friend Hermione if she ever comes over."

"Gotcha," he murmured to give her an answer, though was only focused on the book sitting in his lap.

Flipping the book to the table of contents, he searches for something that popped out "The-Boy-Who-Lived" or anything of the sort. Unfortunately, nothing did on the first page. He turns the page and is surprised to see a line highlighted near the bottom of the page while everything else wasn't. It caught his eye fast. The line glows a yellow color, some parts even sparkling.

_Aunt Hestia must've done this._

The dark ink behind the glow read:

_The fall of Lord Voldemort (pg. 237)_

Henry swishes the page, and read the small paragraphs that were provided:

_On the night of October 31st, Lord Voldemort entered the home of Lily and James Potter, Harry Potter's parents. No real knowledge is known as to why he chose this specific place, but rumors have spread that Harry Potter's parents were a part of a movement to overthrow him and his power. This has not been confirmed, but his intentions were undoubtedly murder. James Potter's body was found near the entrance of their home in Godric's Hollow, killed by the killing curse after trying to protect his family. Lily Potter was also found the same way in Harry Potter's room._

_Harry Potter, for unknown reasons, survived. Wizards and witches have tried to solve this phenomenon on how a mere baby could live unlike his parents, and manage to defeat the dark wizard. An answer has been failed to be given. His current whereabouts are unknown._

That was all. Henry reread the small entry, and turned the page to see if there was more. There wasn't. He tossed the page back. Disheartened described what he was feeling. There was barely half a page and it told the same thing he read in newspapers. He shouldn't really be surprised; there's little to no information on what occurred that night. But still Henry hoped there was something new. He reads again, hoping to catch anything he didn't before.

…_James Potter's body was found near the entrance of their home in Godric's Hollow…_

Godric… that was the first name of the man who inspired the house Gryffindor.

"Godric's Hollow?" Henry whispered.

"What was that, dear?" His mother asked when she heard him say something.

Henry didn't really want to tell her what he was reading, but figured since she knew about the wizarding world maybe she knew about Harry. "You know about Harry, right? Harry Potter?"

"I believe so. That's 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', correct?" She said, half-paying attention to him as she focused the other half on controlling the vehicle.

"Yup. Well, I read how our—uh, I mean _his_ parents used to live in a place called 'Godric's Hollow'. Is that some sort of street or something?"

"No, honey, it isn't a street," she said as she drove. "Godric's Hollow is a village out in the country. It's very small. The only reason people really know about it is because Harry Potter originated there. I lived in a town next to it—that's where I adopted you."

"Oh. Well…." Henry paused. Should he ask her? It was faster than he intended, but it was a shot. "…Umm, I wanted to know if…. If we could go there soon." Henry felt his heart start to beat faster with each word he said, and tried to by breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly without making very much noise to worry her. In. Out. In. Out.

"Go where?" She asked absentmindedly, turning the wheel to the side.

"Where you adopted me from: the orphanage."

The car skidded to a halt.

* * *

><p>Dun, dun, dun, a cliffhanger! Weird… I didn't plan on having one as I wrote this; it just sort of snuck itself on there, ha.<p>

I apologize beforehand if Hermione is a bit OOC. I imagined she tried to become someone different, hence her "bossiness" when she went to Hogwarts. I'll try to keep every canon character in character as best as I can.


	6. To Become a Fact

Car tires screeched as Kai slammed her foot into the brake pedal. She and her son's bodies lurch forward from the motion. Luckily their bodies were secured by the seatbelts and barely moved. "Bastard!" she yelled. The outburst was in no way directed to Henry. A driver just cut her off as she was about to turn, almost managing to get them into an accident. Thankfully the person too stopped their car. Kai growls as her eyes followed the grey vehicle beginning to move again, but took in a deep breath. She needed to think and calm down. These were difficult tasks, especially at what her son just said.

Unfortunately, Henry's breathing was already fragile to begin with. The young boy was only focusing on his mother's face to see her reaction. He thought her outburst was directed at him as well as the car stopping too abruptly. His chest tightens up. Asthma attack. Henry tries to yank out of his seat, only to be strapped down. What had possibly saved him from injuries was blocking him from attaining something that could save him. His fingers reach to unlock the seatbelt, and can barely focus.

Kai immediately noticed Henry's distress. "Hold on," she quickly said before unbuckling hers and snatching his backpack. The woman opens the small pocket she remembered from the morning to pull out the inhaler. "Calm down, calm down," she tries to reassure her son, handing the inhaler into his hands.

Henry thrusts it into his mouth, pressing down once. He presses it down again after ten seconds. Afterwards he drops it into his lap and stares at it. "Thanks," he said quietly, not daring to try to say anything in case her anger returns.

Kai tries her best to be a single mother. She really does. But there were times when she found it hard to reply to certain situations. This was one of them. "Mhmm." The woman then focuses her attention in trying to get them back home safely, thinking how she should approach his question.

Kai should have expected this. She should have expected Henry to decide he wanted to find his birth parents. He didn't exactly _say _he wanted that, but that was just another way of putting it essentially. Isn't that what most adopted children wanted or dreamed of at some point in their life? A big happy reunion full of tears, apologies, and promises to always be there from now on? Yes, Kai always knew that. Still she thought Henry was happy with his life. He had loving a loving parent, been given the essentials he needed (all right, a little bit spoiled during the holidays, but at least she didn't do it all the time), and she always tried to be reasonable, even if she did lose her temper on occasions. He didn't question where he came from, or what happened to his parents. The little boy accepted she was his mother.

It must've been because of Ares.

Ares. Thinking of the name of the man she was separated from caused knots to twist in her stomach. Kai wanted to blame him for ruining her and Henry's life, and she had every right to. But a part of her didn't. If it weren't for him and her getting married as well as deciding to have children, Kai most likely wouldn't have learned she was sterile. And thus, they wouldn't have adopted Henry when he was about four months old. He was a part of the reason they were together. Then again he was the reason why she and her son had to move.

Her eyes glance over Henry, who was continuing to stare at his inhaler. Kai focuses back on the road. It's amazing how the little baby she held in her arms all those years ago has quickly grown. He was no longer the babbling toddler she cared for as Ares was overseas. Her baby was bigger now, and as much as it pained her to think she may lose him, Kai came to a conclusion. A conclusion she thought was for the best.

They arrived at the house they've settled in for a little more than a month. Henry unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Wait," she told him, "we have to talk." Kai patted the steering wheel to emphasize they stay in. Henry nods, remaining in his seat as he cautiously stared at her. She didn't look furious as she did before.

Kai unbuckled her seat as well before she began. "You want to find your birth parents," she was going to say in a question, but it came out more as a statement. Didn't matter though.

Henry clenched his teeth. He knew what truly happened to them. Kai didn't. It was much too early to tell her his theory; he wasn't sure how she was going to react. She just about freaked out when he asked if they could visit the orphanage. No way was her reaction would be any better. "Yeah."

"Why?" _'Aren't you happy with me?'_ she wanted to add.

The ten-year-old didn't formulate an answer as fast as he would've liked. His adoptive mother did bring up a reasonable question. Why did he want to find Harry? Sure, he wanted to in his heart, but there were no reason he _had_ to find him. Everyone thought he was dead. Henry could continue living his life with his mother and aunts. Simple. Finish school and perhaps become a doctor, or a lawyer, or whatever other high-paying occupation parents dreamed for their children. Buy a big house. He knew he could always do that, but something in his heart told him this would be a mistake. James and Lily would've wanted their sons to at least be there for each other when they couldn't. Honoring them was important to him.

He twiddles with his inhaler. "It's because… because sometimes I feel like I'm missing something. I know you'll always have my back Mom, I know. But I feel like I'm alone. I've only had Bobby as a friend. That's all. Now he's gone since we moved. Everyone else I don't connect to, or they don't with me," he stopped talking to try to form his wording carefully. "Even if I don't form a bond with my birth mother and father, I want to know if they had another kid. A brother…or sister who will have my back."

Kai's face fell. It was a whole another ball park if he wanted a sibling—something she could not provide him, both through herself as well as adoption. She would need Ares' signature due to agencies believing in only providing a child through a couple, and Kai never wanted to see him again. The only possibility she would've wanted to see him was ending their separation and become fully divorced. "You want a sibling then?"

Shaking his head, he said, "Not just any sibling; one who's related to me."

"Henry," Kai said softly, reaching her hand over to stroke his head. "You don't have to be blood-related to have a connection like this. We're an example." She smiled, hoping he would truly realize this.

"I know."

He didn't say anything else. Kai pulled her hand away to rest on the steering wheel. She stared through the windshield, not wanting to look at him in the eye. "Henry, although I would much rather forbid you from trying to find them, which I would do with no hesitation, I can't stop you. At some point when you're older and legal you'll go off on this journey, no say on my part. It's your decision, your right, to find them. I wouldn't want you to resent me for stopping you."

Although she was trying to keep herself calm, Henry could notice the hurt in her tone at the last sentence. "I could never hate you Mom. You raised me since I was a baby. If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be in that orphanage. I love you." He tried to reassure her.

Kai smiled. She really did love her son's empathy. That was one of the few things she did right in raising him. "I love you too, which is why I'm going to help you in any way I can. But, you'll have to let me…adjust to this idea first. Give me some time, all right? When the time is right we'll go." Perhaps this was a selfish decision on her part, but Kai didn't care. Different scenarios were forming in her mind: what if Henry's parents did want him back? Or if another family member wanted him? Kai would fight them tooth and nail to the very end to keep him.

Henry, though somewhat disappointed they couldn't begin as soon as possible, understood. This was a lot for someone to take in. He didn't have any intention of hurting her. For now he could wait. Just as long as she will open up to his idea. "Okay."

"All right, now let's go inside. Want a snack? You're stomach has been making noises since I picked you up."

He nods. "Can I have a peanut butter and banana sandwich? With milk and cookies on the side?"

She chuckled. "Only two cookies until after dinner."

Henry pouted out his lip. "Fine."

* * *

><p><em>October 18th, 1990<em>

So far it has been a little over a month since Henry confided into his mother. He would be lying if he said he didn't mind it was taking this long for her all this time. Henry desperately wanted to ask her if she'll ever adjust, but didn't. All she asked from him out of this was time. The ten-year-old was willing to give it to her at his own cost of patience. He never brought the topic up, and she didn't either. Yet he knew it was always on her mind; he could practically read it in her eyes. It was probably in his eyes too.

Henry sighed as he was continuing working on the division problems Miss Brown assigned the class to do. His words from his speech were true; he was feeling lonely. The other kids would give him funny looks like he was a being from another planet and didn't bother talking to him. It wouldn't have bothered him so much if he didn't attempt at befriending one of them, or at least being polite. Of course, she wasn't in his class, but still. Stepping out of his shell was something foreign to him.

The boy sets his pencil down at the sound of the second bell ringing. Recess. He would have gone out to the playground, but didn't feel like repeating what he's been doing for days. Henry would much rather read the book he was almost finished with. With slinging the backpack around the shoulder, he leaves the room for the library. There was no way he was going to risk those bullies ruining his copy of _Hogwarts, a History._ He was left with about thirty pages or so to read. It's been on his mind for some time to finish it.

Upon reading the book, Henry added another thing to the list he thought about constantly: was he a wizard? If his parents were, then did that mean he was too? Harry had to be magical to survive from Lord Voldemort's wand. Did that mean he was one? He wanted to find out, but had to wait for about another year. The book did say witches and wizards were automatically accepted into Hogwarts if they were sent a letter at eleven. Henry suspected there had to be at least some magic in him for the crow and ball to explode, Derek to freeze, and the…shelf incident. Spine shivering, he pushes the thought out.

He finds the library. It didn't take him very long like it did for the fountain; Miss Brown had brought them in days ago and spent an hour telling them how great reading was. Henry didn't need her to remind him his interest. Deciding to return after about two weeks was a hassle in his mind. A part of him really did want to come to enjoy his book, but another didn't due to remembering Hermione telling him she spent her recess time in the library. He settled on going in regardless of her. If she didn't want to be his friend, he was fine with that (even if a little hurt). Besides, he just wanted to finish _Hogwarts, a History_ and continue _Modern Magical History._

Backpack swishing around his shoulder, he enters. Inside, the library was almost empty if it weren't for the man sitting at a desk scribbling something into a book. Henry could also spot the brunette with her nose into a book, her back turned against him to the farther end. He didn't want to talk to her, so settles with sitting at a table somewhat near the entrance. Then, he pulls the book out and flops it open to the page he was on; beginning to read about how each house is rewarded with the house cup at the end of the year. The final page ends with:

_Students return to their homes for the summer vacation. New students are always enrolling as 7th years finish their final year, and will continue each year. Many have claimed this school as their sanctuary. Hogwarts has stood gracefully for centuries, housing countless of witches and wizards. The school will continue doing so for more years to come._

Henry shuts the book. Staring at the back cover and growing bored, he decided to work on the current week's homework packet. Each day he was assigned to three pages (front and side). Doing homework didn't interest him, so he procrastinated on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. It was Thursday now. He still had three days' of work to do, and the side of a page included filling out the multiplication chart. Something he really didn't like. The first six-by-six rows were easy to do, but the other half of the 12-by-12 grid was challenging (minus the 10-by-10 rows). He found himself working on the chart in random order.

_Twelve times eleven is…._ Henry's thought trailed off. He tried multiplying the two numbers several times. Somehow he ended up with a different number each time, and knew he was far off when his answer came out to be 24. Math was complicated at times.

"132," a voice piped up from behind. Henry twists his body to notice Hermione was standing right next to him. Apparently he was too absorbed in trying to figure the answer to notice she saw him alone and see what he was up to. "132's the answer," she repeated. "You were kind of staring at it for five minutes. It looked like you needed help."

"How?" Henry glanced back at his paper. "The answer, I mean. How'd you get it?"

Hermione stated, "You didn't leave a space. Here, let me show you," she pulled out the chair next to Henry and sat in it. The girl takes his packet and pencil from him. Henry didn't grow angry—he was too flabbergasted at her confidence. Wasn't this the same girl who was quiet last month? "The numbers are correct, but the two from the second number should be under the one, not the two, like this," she demonstrates by erasing it and starting over. "And you just add up the numbers," Hermione does. The answer indeed came out to be 132. She hands it back to him.

"Heh, I thought there was something I was forgetting. Thanks, I guess." Henry begins to work on the sheet again. He tries his best to ignore the girl at his side, but it was becoming irksome she was sitting without saying anything. Turning his head, he asked, "Is there something you want?"

"I was hoping your offer for me reading you book still stands."

This was getting really weird. "You wait a whole six weeks to ask?" Before she could answer, he added, "Never mind. Go on, I'm done with it anyway," he slides the book across the surface to her.

"I'll promise to give it back," she told him. Henry nodded and continued trying to work on his homework. Few moments passed. "I can help you with your homework, if you want?" She offered. "By the looks of it, you need help on a lot of stuff."

Henry's lips curled into a half-smile. He would've fully smiled, but he was too confused. "Uh, sure."

* * *

><p><em>October 27th, 1990<em>

Phoenix was the nearest town to Godric's Hollow for being thirty minutes away by car. Although it was considerably smaller than London, the population was ten times the amount of the village. There consisted three schools, a hospital, a shopping center, a police station, and namely the orphanage. Kai remembered the town like the back of her hand. All her life she grew up here. The town wasn't the most financially stable, but it was doing very well when she lived here. She and her son had awoken at six AM to travel here, a whole seven hour trip. Now it was one PM, and her legs ached. Thank goodness it was just a Saturday.

"Let's go," she said as she pulled the keys out of the ignition. They were parked across the street from the home. The woman grabs two bags from the back seat and motions Henry to grab the third.

"What's in here?" He asked. Really he didn't know what was in the grocery bags. They only took one stop about two hours ago at another town. He was too busy stuffing himself hungrily with his sandwich and chips (real chips, not fries mind you) to notice what she put in them. They were tied tightly, so he couldn't tell what the contents were.

"Stuff for the children."

They shut the doors of the car and Henry gets his most recent look at the building. Never in the past would he imagine he would be staring at the orphanage of the town he was born in years later. In this very place he stayed for months until he was adopted, yet he hoped it didn't look like this when he was little. The building to simply put it looked like it was falling apart. Windows were cracked, paint was chipping away, and his first impression was this was an abandoned building. On the side of the door were the words "Thompson's Orphanage for Boys and Girls" in faded lettering. The possibility of people living in here didn't seem likely. Ironically, it did look fitting for Halloween, which was coming up in four days.

His heart pounded in his chest not from his asthma, but from being nervous. _Why am I feeling scared? I shouldn't be. It's just an orphanage_, Henry thought.

His conscious answered simply, _Because you could have still been here if it weren't for Mother. You were one of the lucky ones. Be grateful you were still a baby. People rarely adopt older ones._

The thought saddened him, but it was the truth.

"Does this place still have people living in it?" Henry asked his mother, pushing out the negative emotion. "'Cause it looks like no one does."

Kai was also in deep shock at the state. Apparently the town was really in an economic problem. Funding for the home at the looks of it was cut deeply. Ten years did changed Phoenix a lot. The rest of the town didn't look any better. A part of her was glad she moved away when she had the chance. "I'm sure it is."

The streets around them were empty from incoming cars, so they walked calmly across the street. The mother and son walk up the stairs and Kai knocked on the door. Henry peers through the window, only to see some small children peer back at him from inside. It was kind of creepy. Henry adverted his gaze away to his feet, feeling slightly bad at calling them that. It wasn't their fault they were like this. For all he knew he could have been one them. He tugged at his beanie with a free hand.

The door open, revealing a tired-looking man. "May I help you?" He asked the question sounding forced. Rarely would they get visitors; no one was interested in adopting children, and in the financial crises the town was in no one wanted to care for them except foster care.

Kai doesn't remember seeing him before. She can only recall the old woman. "Can we speak to the woman in charge of here?"

"I'm sorry ma'am, but Misses Thompson has passed away a few years ago," his eyes shown sadness, "the only one in charge of here is me, Mister Thompson, her son. Is there something you would like to discuss…?" The sad eyes flicker to Henry, whom slightly cowered behind Kai.

"Oh no, no no! Nothing like that. It's something else. Can we discuss in private?"

Mr. Thompson nodded, "My office is in the back. Follow me."

They walk through the living room and then the kitchen. The housing inside was a bit more homey, but the sheared carpet as well as dirtied walls added to the rural state. From what he could count there had to be at least twenty children ranging different ages. Older children see him and begin to wonder if he will end up here like they were. Henry knew his mother loved him too much to leave him, but the thought scared him. Still his face remained expressionless.

When Mr. Thompson, Kai, and Henry enter the small office, the man closes the door. The son and mother sit in a pair of chairs placed in front of a desk. Henry doesn't like the texture. It caused his tail bone to ache. "What is it would you like to discuss, Miss…." He trails off.

"Jones. Kai Jones," she tells him. "My son and I were here to ask your mother about his family. He was here as a baby ten years ago and we would like to have his records if there are any."

Mr. Thompson sighs. As he walked back to sit in his chair, he said, "I apologize in advance Miss Jones. We had a fire several years ago. All of the files in my room have been burned and we lost everything," he chuckled bitterly, "really got me to stop my smoking habit."

Henry furrows his brows, trying to look remorseful. It's pretty successful—he's had a lot of practice faking emotions over the years. "Oh."

The man notices his reaction, and tries to cheer him up. "However, if you would like to continue searching, may I suggest the hospital? Their files are more neatly kept," he turns to the woman. "If he was born in this town, chances are they will have his files. Let me give them a call real quick." He picks up the phone and dials a few numbers. "Mary? Hello, it's Jim. I have a woman named Kai Jones who is requesting for, umm give me a second," he covers the mouth piece of the phone, "what's his name?"

"Henry Jones. It used to be Carter. Born July 31st, 1980."

He nods and takes his hand off. "She's requesting for the file of Henry Carter, a child born on July 31st, 1980. Give her whatever she needs. Yes, anything consisting of the name. Again it's Henry Carter. Good. Okay, bye." Mr. Thompson sets the phone down. "She'll prepare it."

"Thank you very much, Mister Thompson. Seeing as Halloween is in four days I would like for you to have these bags," Kai sets a bag on his table gently. Mister Thompson unties the knot at the top and pulled out what was inside: a bag of randomly assorted candy. "This is just a thank you—well, Misses Thompson as I should say—for taking care of Henry. And a little treat for the poor souls."

He stares warily at her, wondering how essentially a random person would care for these children when only he did in this town. The man smiled warmly. At least there was someone who was caring. "Thank you. I sadly cannot afford very much for giving them luxuries, and all of my pounds in my bank account have been spent just on them. This will be a nice treat."

Kai then sets her purse on the table. Unzipping it, she pulled out a thick envelope. It "clinked" upon also being set on the desk.

"What is this?"

"600 pounds."

Henry always thought the expression "jaw dropped to the ground" was funny in the weird sense. How could anyone come up with this? Why? Yet he thought the expression became true upon seeing Mr. Thompson's expression. "I…I don't know what to say."

She picks up her purse. "Just take it. It's a donation. C'mon Henry, the hospital is a few blocks away," she rests a hand on his shoulder.

When they left the orphanage, her son looked up at her. British currency was confusing to him, and was thankful Kai was the one who handled the money. The amount sounded ridiculous. "How much is 600 pounds?"

"In America that would amount to about thousand dollars."

"A thousand bucks?! Why would you give that much?"

"Sometimes you just do nice things to be nice."

Henry never loved his mother more than he did at that moment.

The walk to the hospital took fifteen minutes. It was relatively small he realized with only being one story. Old-fashioned. The doors weren't automatic like he was used to seeing. This was a town after all, not a city.

He couldn't help but feel a bit angry as he entered, examining the white walls, tiled floor, and a small area consisting of chairs and a sofa as a waiting room. One of these people in here somewhere messed up and he was thought to be dead. Henry felt conflicted. On one hand, he was separated from his real family and brother, possibly the only blood relative he has left. Yet on the other hand, if that didn't happen he wouldn't have been adopted by the Jones. His mind formed scenarios—no, he shouldn't be thinking about "what ifs". All that mattered was finding Harry.

"Are you Miss Jones?" The woman at the front desk asked.

Kai nods. "I am."

"Well, I thought I should tell you in person that there was no one named 'Henry Carter' born in this hospital on the 31st of July. The only people who were with the name 'Henry' that night was 'Henry Potter'. Carter was 'Harvey Carter'. I tried contacting Mister Thompson about this, but he said you left."

This was it. This was the evidence he was looking for. It was coming right out of the woman's mouth. Everything was going according to plan.

"Pardon me? But that isn't possible; Henry was born in this hospital that night. I specifically remember Misses Thompson telling me she picked him up here."

The woman held a tight smile. "I can print up a list of the names of the children who were born that day if you like."

"I would like that." Kai answered, putting on a fake smile just like her.

"Very well," she said as she went into a back room. Henry stood uncomfortably next to his mother, the pounding in his chest returning. In mere minutes his adoptive mother was going to truly realize he wasn't a Carter, but a Potter. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell her. Should he be direct? There wasn't enough time for him to decide due to the woman returning with a paper in hand. "These are the list of the children born that day." She sets the paper in front of them. Good thing was he was tall enough to able read the short list:

_Births of 8/31/80_

_Samantha Jackson – 03:27 AM_

_Damon Gale-Harris – 10:45 AM_

_Henry A. Potter – 23:26 PM_

_Harvey Carter – 23:35 PM_

_Harry J. Potter – 23:59 PM_

Transfixed, Henry expected himself to cheer out "Yes!" or maybe even dramatically faint. Neither happened. Somehow the news was taking a lot to sink in physically. Indeed there was no "Henry Carter" as it said on his baby wrist band. Here was physical proof he was truly related to the Potters. Henry didn't need it to prove it to himself. Everyone else would need this to believe him.

Kai stared at the list, specifically at the last three names. She desperately wanted his name to be the second to last, but that could not be possible. The reason Henry's first and middle names were kept the same since she respected the woman who gave birth to Henry. It was a bit of an honor to her. "This isn't possible. You're…you're…." Kai couldn't finish her sentence. Her eyes harden as she looks up. "There is something wrong with your system."

"I can assure you Miss Jones our system is working perfectly fine. No one named 'Henry Carter' was born that night. Or any night."

"C'mon Mom." Henry picked up the paper up. He tries to pull her hand with his smaller hand away from the desk lady. At first, her hand remained firmly to her side. After awhile it relaxes as she calms down. She refused to move.

"Very well then," Kai said. Her hand firmly grasped Henry's completely and she led them away, much more harder than he would have liked. Incoherent mumbling under her breath was what he picked up. He couldn't tell the tone she was using, so decided to let her continue. Suddenly she asked out loud, "Is this why you brought me here?" The pressure from her grasp lessened.

"Huh?"

"You think you're a Potter," she simply stated as if he responded with a "yes". Henry wasn't sure if he should be happy she figured out his plot or scared she caught on so quickly. Perhaps both. "I should have known. Hestia told me you were interesting in finding information for Harry Potter. I thought it was just a boy's fascination. Now it makes sense. How though? How did you find out?" Kai was now looking at him. She wasn't angry, just curious.

Henry chewed on his cheek, debating whether or not he should tell her about the dream connections. This was definitely the main thing that brought him to conclusions. "Mom, I have these dreams that reoccur some nights. There have been more and more of them since we moved back to London. It mainly included the night Harry was attacked by the guy named Lord Voldemort. I don't know why they're there. They just happen.

"When I went into the attic there were these articles about that night with Harry's—well, our parents. Lily and James was in the dream, Mom. It was them. I recognized them. There was also a picture of Harry when he was a baby and I compared it to one of mine. They matched a lot." It felt strange to tell her what has been floating in his head for these past few months, but it felt good. "That's how I know he's my brother."

Kai mused, "I wondered what got into that box." That was all she said. They entered the car for the long drive back.

"What are we gonna do?" Henry asked.

The question sunk into her brain. It wasn't everyday you found out your son was related to a famous wizard. Kai had no idea how she was supposed to approach this. "I'll figure something out."

The rest of the drive was quiet.

* * *

><p><em>October 31st, 1990<em>

Halloween, originally known as "All Hollows' Eve" centuries ago, was a holiday celebrated all around the world. Many thought positively of this day for the celebrations and candy. For Henry, nine years ago on this very day was the night his parents were killed. As his costume for trick-or-treating was being put on, he couldn't help but think about that night. Halloween would no longer be the same for him—the holiday was tainted. The only positives he could think of was the treat collecting. Henry knew the day would never be the same for him. Right now, he could at least stay in the present, where Kai was putting on fake scars with her make-up for his pirate costume.

"All set," Kai told him. Henry examines the scars fully in the mirror. There was a large slant across his right cheek covering his beauty mark, and a jagged scar under his left eye. Make-up may have been for girls, but the boy was willing to wear it for today. The rest of his costume consisted of a loose-fitting white dress shirt, a brown vest over it, black pants, and his tennis shoes. Around his waist was a fake-leather belt to hold his sword. It was downstairs. "Don't rub your eye or you'll smear it."

Henry hummed. "Thanks."

"Henry, you're going to be good for Mister Granger, got it? It's very kind of him to offer to take you on such short notice. That means no running off, listening to him and doing whatever he asks, and being careful." Kai wouldn't have normally let her son out with essentially a stranger, but she spoke to him over the telephone and he sounded nice enough. She was quite surprised at how quick Henry had taken a shining on a person—it took Bobby several months to do what Henry has done with this Hermione in the course of a few weeks. At what she discovered a few days ago she felt anything was possible.

"It's just gonna be for a half an hour. You're gonna meet us on 65th Avenue, aren't you?"

"I have to talk to Hestia about… you know first. But yes, I'll meet you three there."

Nodding, he then leaves the bathroom. Tiger sat outside of the door, licking his paw. The ten-year-old picks him up and hugs the kitten closely. His pet meowed. As he walked down the stairs, he talked to his pet. It sounded weird, but the kitten seemed to understand him. Henry really couldn't explain it. Maybe he was just a smart cat. "You're gonna meet my friend. Her name is Hermione. Be nice, 'kay?" He asked playfully.

"Meow," Tiger says again. Henry pets him on his head. He walks through the hallway, looking for the plastic sword his mother bought yesterday. The doorbell rings just as his fingers graze the plastic handle. He picks it up and slips it into the belt holder. Footsteps echoed from the stairs. Henry begins making his way through the room when Kai opens the door. Standing there was Mr. Granger and Hermione, who was dressed as a witch.

"Hello, you must be Miss Jones. It's a pleasure to meet you," Mr. Granger shook Kai's hand.

"Likewise Mister Granger," Kai lets go of their grip. "Please, come in."

"You have a lovely home Miss Jones," Hermione says.

"Thank you," Kai smiled.

Although she sees Henry, her attention immediately went towards the feline he was holding. "Aww, hello there," she cooed at the kitten. "I always wanted one, but my Mum said only when I'm older." She takes a hold of its paw and shakes it gently. "Nice you meet you kitty."

"His name is Tiger."

"He'd go perfect with my outfit."

"All right children," Mr. Granger chuckled. "We best go while there is still daylight. It'll become very cold after that. Wouldn't want any one to get sick."

Henry sets Tiger on the ground. When he stands back up, he's handed a pillowcase by Kai. She kissed his forehead. "Be good," she told him. Kai watched the retreating form of her son and his friend with her father before shutting the door. Her hand digs into the nearby bowl of candy for trick-or-treaters for a small Hershey's bar. She walks into the living room and sits in the loveseat. As she waits patiently, she opens the candy packet and consumes the chocolate one bit after another. After ten minutes she hears a "pop" sound much like the one Gwenog made when she apparated. Instead of the second to youngest Jones family member the figure was Hestia, who appeared in the hallway. She has an exasperated expression on her face.

"I came here as soon as I heard," Hestia calls. She walks rapidly into the room. "Is it—?"

"Yes," Kai interrupted with no remorse. "It's true. He is. There's evidence that shows he wasn't born with the surname Carter." She then proceeds to tell Hestia the reasoning Henry brought up. It goes as far as Kai placing a baby picture of Henry (this time sitting on a sofa) and the photograph of the Potters. "See? You can look for yourself. They're so similar you can't deny it."

"How can you be so sure? I mean Muggles mess up all the time. What is there was something wrong with the computter thingy? It wouldn't be the first time their technology has been unreliable."

"It's called _computer_, and I am pretty damn sure his last name is Potter. Nothing to do with Carter. You sound like you doubt me," she pointed out. "Do you not want this to be true?"

Her sister-in-law sighs. "Trust me; I would love for this to be true. But no one is going to believe us, Kai. Absolutely no one. I'd be thrown in Azkaban for being thought to be insane before anyone gives me a glance."

"No Hestia that would be true for me. I'm as by the wizarding world standards, nothing but a mere Muggle. You on the other hand are a witch. You have more voice than me. Someone out there will listen to you, not me."

"I'm not sure…." Hestia rubs her forehead with a hand. She really did want to help with Kai, but coming out with the theory that a supposedly dead child was alive sounded crazy. Muggles did make mistakes, but how often did they make mistakes that were this costly? She wanted to believe it, but for it to be reality was unbelievable. "I'll… I'll meet with a man. He was the leader of the _Order of the Phoenix._ He should know how we should approach this. I'll talk to him as soon as possible. He will want to hear this."

"Who's this man?"

"Albus Dumbledore."


	7. The Test

_November 1st, 1990_

Albus Dumbledore enjoyed candy, especially those created by Muggles. If anyone has ever met him, they would know this trivial fact about the man. In fact, several times being the Headmaster of Hogwarts did he create passwords to enter his office as the name of candies. There was always at least one time when he offered a treat to someone. Right now, a lemon drop occupied his mouth, relishing the sweet and sour taste over his tongue.

Sitting quietly and patiently, he waited for a friend he hasn't seen in ages.

It's amazing how serene he appeared to be; anyone else in his place would be acting the total opposite. If Dumbledore had to be truthful, he did feel a bit animated to hear what Hestia was going to explain to him. After all, it's not everyday when someone presumed to be dead was actually alive, with evidence to back up the claim. There was only one other person he suspected was active somehow, somewhere, and it certainly wasn't a child from ten years ago. The brother of the Boy-Who-Lived nonetheless.

Dumbledore still remembers the day when James Potter arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place. Two days passed since The Order last heard from the young couple, and tensions between its members rose on how to deal with this fact. Some members have thought they needed space with their stress of preparing to be parents. Others believed they should try to contact them to make sure they were not in an immediate danger. After Remus and Sirius visited Godric's Hallow to only discover they were nowhere to be seen when everyone became truly worried. However, James had (thankfully) shown up on time before things became hectic.

The room shifted upon him entering the room. For approximately five seconds did everyone's conversations stopped to stare at the expecting father before someone asked, "Where were you?" A chorus other questions soon followed after. "Did Lily give birth?" "Is she in trouble?" "Bloody hell mate, what happened?" Their voices died out upon further inspection of the man. Some even gasped silently.

He looked like a total mess. Hands shoved deeply into pockets, the clothes he wore seemed to have been hastily thrown on together with no thought. Even in his most terrible mood he looked half-presentable than he did now. James' raven hair was always unruly, but his locks appeared to be even messier than usual. Dark heavy bags rested under his usual bright eyes. What struck the most to Dumbledore were his eyes. He never forgot the bleak glint he noticed in them. The same glance one develops when he or she discovers someone they loved has passed away. Albus knew it all too well; he and his family had grown to hold the same look after the death of his sister decades ago. Tragedy had struck the Potter family.

"I'm sorry Lily and I haven't been showing up, but we needed time off." James didn't spoke with the same confident tone he would normally use. He was quiet. This was completely unlike him. "A lot of things have happened."

"What happened, James?" Dumbledore, who had stood up upon seeing him, asked cautiously.

Taking in a shaky breath, he answered, "Lily had the twins." The news should have brought excitement to everyone, but his low tone indicated there was more of the story to come. And it wasn't good. "It was fine at first, perfect even, but our first boy, Henry, he… my son… he…" His voice trailed slowly as his eyes fell to stare at the floor. His hazel eyes moistened. "He's gone. He passed away."

The room remained quietly. A few people wanted to stand up and comfort him, but the shock at his words froze them in place.

"It had something to do with his heart, Lily said. It's called _cardiac arrest_, and to simply put it, his heart stopped beating." Voices fully of sympathy began to speak up as well as questions. James immediately added, "I can see everyone has lots of questions, but right now we would like time to ourselves to adjust. We would appreciate it dearly if we had some time alone." _Alone with our other son. _"We'll explain everything further when we come back."

Everyone nodded.

Dumbledore said, "Very well, James. Take all the time you need. All I have to ask before you leave is where you will be residing. Security reasons, that is."

"Her parents' home. Thank you all for understanding. Just know that because this has happened, we will not neglect our responsibilities. As soon as we—"

"Just go, Prongs." Sirius said softly. James, for the first time since he looked down, tilts his head upwards, smiling sadly. The tears remained unshed. Without saying anything he turns his body around. But before he leaves, he forces something else out. "In case you were wondering, our other boy's named Harry." He left.

A part of Lily and James Potter died along with their son. They no longer smiled nor laughed as passionately as they did before. Anything relating to "hospital" or "twins" brought tears in their eyes and was topics generally avoided. But little by little with each passing day, the pain didn't hurt as much. The couple accepted the sad fate Henry was destined to have. Dumbledore—or anyone for that matter—could tell their hearts still ached at the fragile life taken away from them. Yet they were finding ways to cope with the death, mainly due to the fact of finding joy in raising Harry. With time, they would heal. Dumbledore could even say they were almost the same people as before.

And then Voldemort attacked three months later.

It seemed the odds were against Mr. Harry Potter having a normal home life. A little more than a year after he lost his only sibling, the dark wizard Voldemort seized away his parents' life before trying to take his own, yet lived. Dumbledore was forced to send him to his only living relative's left: Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Lily's sister and her husband. Lily's parents had passed away five months before October 31st. James' own mother and father also died several years ago. One could assume he was meant to be an orphan. Or at least end up in the situation he was in.

Raindrops began to pelt softly against the window. The lemon drop he was enjoying melted into nothing more than a tiny piece of what it used to be. He lets it slide down his throat as his eyes scanned across his desk. Sitting half-folded was the letter Hestia sent him yesterday, next to an opened bag of assorted candies. Dumbledore pushed them aside, opened up the letter, adjusted his reading glasses, and read the contents again for about the tenth time or so since he received it:

_Dear Dumbledore,_

_It's been quite a while, hasn't it? It's Hestia. I bring you urgent news. Remember Lily and James' second son, Henry? To simply put it, he did not die that night. He's alive. I request we meet in private for me to further explain this. As soon as possible. _

_Please do not tell anyone about this._

_- Hestia _

A phoenix squawks, catching Dumbledore's attention. His eyes flicker to his pet. Fawkes was in the stage of an adult. Watching intently at the entrance, head tilted to the side, he awaits for who was going to enter in. "Our visitor is here," murmured the man. He refolded the paper in its original state and set it back down on the desk.

"Dumbledore?" Hestia calls out as she walks up the spiral stairs. Footsteps echoed throughout the room each step she took. Recognizing the woman, Fawkes lets out a softer squawk and relaxed.

"In here," he replied. His lips curl into a smile upon seeing her once again. They may have been united to battle against a dark force during dark times and disbanded since then, but _The Order of the Phoenix_ did share their close moments. It was more than just a group of people—they were like a second family. They did all need support when faced with danger every day. "It really has been a long time, hasn't it? Please, have a seat."

"Yes." He wasn't sure whether or not she referred to her question, accepted his offer, or both. At the moment it did not matter. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the overwhelming sight of books and contraptions. She walked through the room and sat in the chair placed in front of Dumbledore's desk. Her hands crossed together, legs pressing together tightly. "I never would have imagined seeing you again… for something different other than You-Know-Who, y'know?" She chuckled, humor trying to cover up her nervousness.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Don't be so edgy, Hestia. It's just you and me. No one knows about this," he smiled warmly. "Friend to friend." Hestia relaxed under his gaze. He leaned forward. "Tell me, how is Henry alive?"

"Friend to friend," she repeated. Her main concern was whether or not the media would find out. Hestia didn't want her family to be forever dubbed "delusional" and looked upon as freaks as other families have been. People tended to remember family names for all the wrong reasons, depending on the situation. But she knew she could trust Dumbledore. He always meant his word. "Well, you know about my brother Ares, right?"

He noted how the way her lip curled downwards at the mention of "brother".

Ares Jones. Dumbledore has never met the young man face-to-face. He only knew Hestia and Gwenog, and that was because of their attendance to Hogwarts. He knew small bits about him after Hestia mentioned a few large events going on in her life involving him (the two being a wedding and an adoption). But like many families in the wizarding world, he was never truly brought up; it was a social taboo of being born without magical abilities in a magical family. It was considered an embarrassment to the family's name.

"He and his wife—_ex-wife _I mean, adopted a baby after they found out they couldn't have any. Recently, my sister-in-law Kai and my nephew Henry have tried to find his birth parents at the hospital he was born in, but say there wasn't a kid born under his first surname 'Carter'. There was only Henry Potter, Harry Potter, and Harvey Carter on his birth date. Kai kept Henry's first and middle name out of respect for his parents, so it should have been 'Henry Alan Carter.' But he never existed. We think he was switched. On purpose? Not likely."

Dumbledore leaned back into his seat. He waited for more information, but when it became apparent she was finished with her speech, he asked, "Is there more evidence?"

"If you even just look at them, there is no denying their relation. Except for a few things, a few things that you can tell are different. But my Merlin do they look alike." She paused. "And there's something else too, sir."

The man continued to listen. "Yes?"

"There are these… dreams he has."

"Dreams?"

"Dreams. This will most likely be the craziest thing I will say today, but hear me out. Henry says he has dreams where he is seeing things through someone else's perspective. He describes it as watching things in someone else's eyes and believes this person is Harry. The main one was when he says he sees someone enter the Potters' home. And he actually _sees_ Lily and James. The attack, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killing Lily, everything."

After letting the information sink in before promptly asking, "Has he been raised in the wizarding world?"

Hestia understood where he was going. "No. Ares is a squib and Kai's a muggle," she said. "There is no reason why he would be raised knowing this stuff. It was kind of why they moved to America in the first place. As far as I know, Americans weren't too concerned with Voldemort. It wouldn't be likely he found a book about Harry and started fantasizing being related to him."

Could this really be? The story indeed sounded plausible, and he knew Hestia would never make up something like this without a reasonable motive. If this was indeed a false accusation, why would they bring it up now? Harry hasn't even make an appearance at Hogwarts yet, which would be the timing a scammer would use.

"Remarkable," he said, "I must speak to him. Will today be good?"

"Oh course! Kai won't mind."

"Just give me a moment."

Standing up, Dumbledore walked around the desk. Hestia also stood up, but stayed in her spot to wait. He walked up the flight of stairs to the second floor into his sleeping chambers. It was simple; a king-sized bed, a dresser with a box of tissues on top across the room, a closet adjacent to it, and above the dresser was a portrait of The Order standing proudly in a group. Without saying words, he pulls the picture off the wall to reveal a smaller door with a handle: a lockhouse.

Dumbledore pulls out his wand. Pointing at the handle, he whispered, "Alohomora." Almost instantaneous the handle turned ninety degrees to the right, and the door opened ajar. He pulls it open completely. Inside was what he placed his most valued possessions. He slipped his wand back into his pocket to pull out James' invisibility cloak, carefully examining the collar. Delicately, he plucked off a single dark lock. James' lock. He knew it was truly his; his own hair had never been as dark as it used to be for years and no one else wore it. Since his death, it has remained in his possession, carefully under his watchful eye.

He folded the cloak the way it was before and placed it in its original spot. "Colloportus." The door slowly moved backwards to shut itself. The spells were relatively simple, but his room was charmed so only the current reigning Headmaster or Headmistress could enter. The opening and locking spells were a mere safety precaution.

Levitating the picture back to cover the secret vault, Dumbledore smiled wistfully at the figures of James and Lily standing in the farther side in the group. He pulled a single tissue from the box. After folding it carefully, he placed the strand of hair in the middle and folded it once more. The elder wizard then placed the tissue on top of the drawer and pulled out another tissue, also folding this one.

Despite his skepticism, Dumbledore wanted this to be real. He was certain Voldemort was still alive and would one day return. Harry would need all of the support he could get. The only downfall out of the situation was that if this all became true, then James and Lily would have gone to the grave believing they have left Harry all alone.

* * *

><p>Kai almost shrieked at seeing the two people apparate from thin air five feet from her. She may have been used to the oddities of witches and wizards, but this was one of the things she never got used to. If she was holding something, the woman would have more than likely dropped it.<p>

"Oh my goodness," she gasped.

Seeing her expression, Hestia quickly apologized. "I'm so sorry Kai. I didn't mean to scare you! Umm," she began awkwardly, "Dumbledore, this is Kai. Kai, this is Dumbledore."

Dumbledore holds out a hand, to which Kai shakes. After she regains her composure with a sheepish smile, she says, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Would you like some tea? Or coffee perhaps?"

"Oh no, I'm fine, thank you very much."

Hestia simply shakes her head.

"Please, have a seat and make yourself home," Kai offered. Dumbledore glanced around the room they were in currently. It appeared to be a living room. Modestly, he sits down in the loveseat. Hestia sat next to him. Kai sat in the armchair.

"What is it you need, Mister Dumbledore?" The mother asked to the elder man.

He smiled.

* * *

><p>Henry loved rain. Sure, it made mud and mud was a mess to clean up, but nearly everything after it rained turned better. The usually boring, white, fluffy clouds became darker and more interesting. The sound of rain tapping on the roof of the car became a soothing rhythm. Splashing in the puddles was fun too. Though he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he liked the way the asphalt smelt after it rained. All he wanted to do was run around in the rain, letting the water droplets soak up into his hair (even if he had to endure his mother's scolding for a whole hour on him getting sick). His thoughts were consuming his attention and didn't pay attention to what his mother was saying as they exited the car.<p>

"There's someone here to meet you." She called out loudly over the rain. Being outside, the rain's volume intensified, and took a bit more effort for her to say anything.

"Who?" With an arm holding a strap of his backpack, he held out a palm, collecting the beads of water that fell from the sky. He let the collected water slip through his fingers as they rushed up the creaky stairs onto the porch.

Her loud tone quieted down when they were outside out the front entrance. "A man. His name is Albus Dumbledore. Be on your _best _behavior. He's here to talk about Harry. Don't be afraid of him. He's a nice man."

Saying that name brought most of his attention up front. But it wasn't just about Harry. Hearing "a man" made Henry feel dread meeting him, despite knowing he could possibly help bridge the gap. Henry's mind cognates a possible image of what he looked like: beefy arms, height towering above him, thick, meaty fingers… not all men looked like that he knew. Still, that's all he saw in them, no matter their looks. They were all the same: out to get you.

But as long as his mother was there he felt safer.

"All right," Henry said, keeping the nervousness at a minimal.

Upon Kai opening the door, they stepped into the room. Sitting in the loveseat was Aunt Hestia and the man he presumed to be Albus Dumbledore. He was literally not what he expected; he thought the man would be younger. Much, much younger. Although his face looked to be clearer of wrinkles for a man at his age, what caught Henry's attention was his beard. Cascading downwards, it was a milky white tone, almost whiter than snow. Henry was reminded of Santa Claus if the fictional man's facial hair grew. The dark cloak he wore was alike to what the wizard's in the articles he read.

Dumbledore was also studying him. There was no denying the relation between him and the Potters if he were to completely base it on looks; same reddish-brown hair (even if a little darker) as Lily, same hazel eyes as James, holding a similar curiosity he always had, and a similar facial structure as him. But there was a glint of alertness, an alertness he wasn't sure it was just from meeting him for the first time and being suspicious. Despite feeling taken a little aback, he remained calm.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Dumbledore stood up and greeted him. "Hello, Mister Jones." He stood up. Henry felt even smaller under his gaze.

"Hi Mister Dumbledore, sir."

Dumbledore held out a hand. Henry glanced at it. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with it that he could tell. It looked normal for a man his age. Yet he found it more difficult to reach over and shake it than it would be if it were a woman; his arm moved rigid and fingers curled tighter than they should have. He was sure the man must have noticed, but his face didn't give away an indication.

The man turned towards Kai. "May we talk in private?" His initial plan was to interview the boy personally and observe his actions to see if the boy was sincere. He didn't tell this part of his plan to either Kai or Hestia; Dumbledore needed to see him premature in case the story was false and someone was telling Henry or giving him signs.

Hestia and Kai glanced at each other. "Sure, we'll wait in the kitchen," Kai says.

A stone dropped in Henry's stomach.

She placed a kiss on Henry's temple. "It will be all right," his mother whispered to him, so low he could barely hear her. The two women left them by themselves. Henry tries to send her a pleading look, a final form of protest for her to stay. But she was gone. In his peripheral vision, he could see the bearded wizard sit back down. Instead of standing around awkwardly in his own home, he sits in the armchair and set down his backpack next to his feet. He closed his legs, hands linking together to fit through the spacing between his fingers. It was almost the same posture as Hestia shown.

Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle. Henry's defensive stance somewhat loosened, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.

He explained, "You're a lot like your aunt. She was nervous too when she came to see me earlier today. It's quite funny considering you were not raised here, correct?"

"No, sir. I was born here, but for most of my life I lived in the U.S."

"The United States? What city?"

"Lake Tahoe, California." It was obvious to tell his rigid was at the maximum level.

"Ah, California. A beautiful place. So many different landscapes represented in a single state. Would you like to see something fascinating?"

"Umm, okay, sure."

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and pulled out a silvery lighter. Eying it carefully, Henry watched him flip open the top hatch. Pressing the latch down, the room suddenly became darker when the orb of light emitted from the light bulb on the top of the ceiling. The only light source emanated was from a lamp in the corner of the room.

Henry's wide-eyed expression caused Dumbledore to chuckle again. "This is my own invention. Pretty nifty if I say so myself. It's called the Puter-Outer."

For a while, they made small talk about little insignificant things, things obviously skirting around the topic. Although Henry could tell something was up, he did allow his body to relax; his shoulders slacked significantly and hands no longer were together. One of his elbows was plopped upwards. But mentally, he held the same amount of suspicion, if not more, that he seized at the beginning of their conversation. But there was something about the man that he found comforting. Something… almost grandfatherly. The boy wasn't positive on how to react. He's never had a grandfather before. Would a grandfather be like this?

Halfway through their conversation, Tiger decided this was the time to find Henry. Meowing as it sauntered towards him, Tiger pawed at his shin, the signal for Henry to pick him up. Henry does, and stroked from behind his ears to all the way to his tail.

"He's quite a big feline," Dumbledore said. "What's his name?"

"Tiger. He's about seven months I think."

"Interesting. From the looks of it, 'Tiger' is a fitting name if he's this size already. He must be at least three-quarter Kneazle, half at the least."

"Kneazle? What's a Kneazle?"

"Kneazle is a magical feline. It's like a cat, but considerably larger and tend to have a higher intelligence rate. They are able to breed with normal cats, so it would explain the size."

"So… Tiger will grow bigger?"

"Much, much bigger."

For the first time since he arrived, Henry smiled, even though his smile didn't meet his eyes. "Cool."

More talk. An hour must have passed already. Was he interested in Henry's idea, or getting to know him? It certainly felt like it on the outside, but Dumbledore started to ask questions that were more relevant: "When did your dreams of Voldemort begin?" "What happened?" "Were there any more of these dreams?" Henry felt relieved they have finally moved on to the subject matter they both wanted to know.

"Henry, your mother and aunt tell me that you were the one who created this theory of being Harry's brother, correct?"

"Yeah."

"I will not chastise your idea. Quite frankly, I am open to it," Henry smiled again, a more brighter, wide smile. "There is something we can use to find out if you really are. It's a potion called Saeta Compositus. Gathering the ingredients is a complicated process, and the result afterwards takes several weeks to complete. For it to work, I will need a sample of your hair. After creating the potion, I simply will drop it in the liquid along with a sample of the family's hair strand.

"Now Henry, if this does turn out you aren't related to him, the rest of your life will go on. No one but us will ever know we met for this. But if otherwise, and you decide to pursue a relationship with him, then this will eventually come out. The media tends to twist the story, and they will take any chance at tarnishing your name—I've had enough experience to know this as a fact.

"This decision is too big for a boy your age to make on your own, so I consulted with your mother before she left. She believes you are strong enough to handle the attention and the benefits would outweigh the negatives. What do you want?"

"When can we start with the potion?"

"We can start today if you wish."

Bringing up a hand, Henry gripped a thread of his hair and plucked it out. He gritted his teeth, the pain receding after seconds. "Will this do?"

* * *

><p><em>November 22th, 1990<em>

Saeta Compositus (or "Hair Match" when translated) was one of the most complicated potions a wizard or witch could do. There were so many technical steps required to take, even the most advanced potion master would need to retry the potion a few times, but gathering the ingredients was the more complicated process: grounded unicorn horn, the sap of a weeping willow, a troll's tears, ect. Locating certain ingredients required knowing the right people; Dumbledore had these connections. But it took several weeks to gather a majority of the needed elements, and he now held the last thing needed.

The moon above shone brightly in the night sky. Dumbledore estimated the time to be about ten o'clock. The majority of the inhabitants inside the castle would be undoubtedly sleeping. No him, though. Neither him nor the Potions master he enlisted for help.

When he made his way through the dungeons, he entered a secret corridor specifically bounded off from the student body. He enters a room, seeing the man with dark hair stand next to a bubbling, small black pot with a ladle.

"Here is the last thing you need," Dumbledore told him, setting down a jar full of small crickets on the table nearly full with other things. The man didn't even acknowledge what he said; his mind was too keen on slowly stirring the clear liquid in the dark kettle, the beginning process of the potion. He picked up a vial and emptied the contents into the pot. A puff of smoke arose.

Silence. "If you don't mind me asking sir, who is this for? And why did you need my help? You are more than capable enough of preparing a batch of Saeta Compositus," the man said.

"Ah Severus. We both know I am capable, but we also know how easy it is for someone to misuse or miscalculate what's needed and then have to start over. With you in charge, there is a less chance of having to. I cannot tell you who this is for due to a promise that I mustn't give out information, but you'll soon find out."

With Dumbledore watching, the potion teacher continued to mix ingredients, carefully measuring out the amounts and timing when to put them in. This went on for an hour, the room dimly lit by several floating candles.

Snape didn't question further, preferring to continue to work in silence. He's learned for a long time to listen to Albus with no question.

After grinding the crickets into a sickly-looking paste, Snape dumped the last needed thing. What used to be insects plopped into the goop. In anticipation, they wait to see if he had successfully generated the potion. The clear liquid slowly shifts into a light, almost turquoise color.

Dumbledore smiled. This was what they wanted.

The older man pulled out the tissues. He opened the one containing James' hair and dropped it into the kettle. He does the same for Henry's. The two hairs adhered to the surface of the liquid, side to side, before sinking in seconds later.

And now began the waiting game.

* * *

><p><em>December 17th, 1990<em>

Deoxyribonucleic Acid, usually shortened to DNA, is fundamental for most living things. The "set of instructions" contains genes that tell the cells of a body how tall a person will be, their eye color, and countless of other attributes. A person is defined how they will look at the moment of conception. They are given a set from their mother and a set from the father.

Saeta Compositus causes the DNA chromosomes (the long strand structure) to slowly untwine from each other, demolishing the double helix design. The potion would recognize if the strands matched. When each gene matched one with the DNA of the other hair, the liquid morphed different colors. Although this sounded relatively simple, the process went on between two to three weeks, which was why Severus Snape checked on the potion every day to check the results. Although it could prove if two people were either close or distant relatives, the results would depend on the color.

And know the liquid shifted into the dark blue color.

Severus Snape glanced down at _Advanced Potions_, glancing through the different colors listed that would show what relationship the two subjects held. Dark blue was the color for father and son.

He knew he should report this to Dumbledore, but for some reason found he was unable to move; he felt he was somehow connected to these results, yet couldn't comprehend how. He leaned against the table, staring into the kettle in front of him. Instead of dwelling on the feeling, he left the room, off to tell the elder man the results.

* * *

><p>"Henry, you have to be faster than that!" Hermione squealed, kneeling over to grab a handful of snow and threw the sphere at Henry. It landed straight into his left leg. Stopping subsequently, he stuck out his tongue at her before continuing to chase her across the snow-covered blacktop. Although they tended to sit in the quiet library, Henry convinced her to go outside with him when the first layer of snow fell from the sky. She was reluctant at first, believing the other students would take this opportunity to bully her. But so far they haven't, and he was glad; Hermione appeared to be having the time of her life playing with him and actually doing something outside of reading and doing homework.<p>

But his mind was not in their game of tag. Today was the day, the day he was going to find out if he is the son to the Potters and the brother to Harry. It's been a month and a half since he last heard from Dumbledore, and when his mother told him they would be expecting him again today, he nearly bounded out of his seat. Henry was confident the results would be in his favor, but there was that little voice in his head that tried to bring him mood down.

His fingers brushed against her back. "Tag! Gotcha!" The two bodies halted. Henry slipped off his gloves, holding the somewhat damp material with the crook of his arms as he held his hands together, rubbing furiously in an attempt to warm his freezing hands.

"Is there something going on? You catching me took way to long for someone as fast as you."

"Nu-uh, nothing is going on." Hermione gave him an all-knowing look, almost like she saw through him. To be honest it scared him a little. He ran a hand through his hair. "Well, except…"

"You can tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone else."

He asked skeptically, "You promise?"

"I promise," she smiled.

Should he tell her? Henry knows that it would be wrong to tell her _every _single detail. But he wanted to tell someone how he was feeling. Maybe it would be fine if he just left out the magical aspect of his life. That would be fine, right? Yes, he reasoned.

"Okay. Let's go sit in the hallway so nobody will hear me."

After walking for a minute and making sure no one else was around, Henry explained his story, making sure he left out the dreams, the moving newspapers, and anything else in between. Most importantly, he explained to her what was bothering him. "The man is coming over today after school, and we'll find out if I'm related to Harry. If I am, how am I going to be a brother? I don't know how to."

"I don't have siblings either, but I think what you would have to do is just being a friend: talk to him, have fun, and be there for him no matter what."

"So, like us," He stated.

Her face reddened. "Like us," She repeated.

* * *

><p>"Miss Jones, after careful testing, the results have shown Henry is indeed Harry Potter's brother."<p>

A huge grin plastered across the young boy's face. He knew in his heart he had to have some ties to Harry, but the dread of being told he was only contriving the ideas in his head was liberating. All of the confusion of the dreams that plagued him was somewhat answered, yet now he could only focus on one thing:

"When can I see him?" Henry asked.

"Mister Jones, I believe you meeting him in person would not be the best course of action." The boy frowned. "Let me elaborate. I'm afraid showing up at his doorstep claiming you are his brother might put him into a state of shock. I propose the best way to approach this rationally is through a letter. That way he could allow the news to process in his mind."

Henry slumped in his chair. The worst part of this solution was that the man had made sense. He would be pretty freaked out too if strangers showed up at his doorstep like that. "A… a letter?" He faltered. "Okay, I guess that makes sense. But… I don't know where he lives."

Dumbledore said, "Don't worry, I know the address. I'll send an owl to pick up your letter at seven in the morning tomorrow to send to where he resides. Owls move a lot quicker than any mailman. When you see it, it will have a letter with it already; I too have to send a letter to his guardians explaining the situation. Do we have a plan?"

"Yeah," Henry said. After the man left, he ran upstairs to start on the letter immediately, not knowing it wouldn't reach the recipient it was meant for.


End file.
